It Was the Year of Great Sadness
by 88Ivories
Summary: In the continuing story that began in It Was The Year of Fire, now in S2, Jen begins to play an even more important role in Sam & Dean's lives as she tries to help them through their father's death & other struggles. NOW SEASON 2 COMPLETE!
1. In My Time of Dying

**Welcome to my world! If you have been a reader of It Was The Year of Fire, welcome back to Season 2, go ahead and skip this introduction and enjoy the big reveal!**

******If not, but you think you might be interested in this story, let me tell you a little bit about it: This story is the run of the series as if it included Sam's best friend from college, Jen, who is definitively more than she seems. She's not particularly involved with the cases, but likes to poke and prod into the boys psyches and get to the more complex parts of the story and the feelings that the Winchesters don't like to talk about. What you will mostly find here is missing scenes and episode tags of the angst and hurt/comfort variety, along with a few extra stories in between the ones in canon. If you want to get to know Jen from the beginning (especially as this particular chapter contains a major reveal about Jen's life) please check out my completed story **It Was The Year of Fire. The simple version, if you don't mind being spoiled by reading this chapter, is that she was best friends with Sam and Jess in college and when Jess died, she came with Sam and Dean. Her reasons for that are complex and still relatively unknown, but she's been an important aspect of their journey. She has no romantic interest in Sam or Dean, but still seems to be more than just a good friend along for the ride. This season, some of her motives become more apparent, but she remains partially a mystery to Sam and Dean. I hope you like it!********

****Also, consider this entire story to have spoilers up through the end of season 2.****

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't believe what he just heard. The possibility of Dean not waking up again was just not something Sam was willing to accept. Yet, looking at his brother in the hospital bed, tubes sticking out of him … no! This couldn't be happening. Not now.<p>

Sam bit his lip, tears filling his eyes.

"Sam." Jen's voice floated into the room. Sam looked up just as she entered and came quickly to him. Without a second's hesitation he grabbed her, squeezing her tightly.

"Thank God you're here." Sam whispered just as his composure broke and a sob shook his shoulders as he buried his head into Jen.

"I know. I heard." She said quietly. "I was just outside."

Sam kept holding onto Jen, trying to calm himself. He knew crying wasn't going to help anyone. Jen was as steady and strong as ever, and Sam used that to pull himself together.

He whispered again, just barely getting the words out. "We have to find a way to help Dean."

Her voice echoed in Sam's ear with complete confidence. "If there is a way out there, I'm sure you or John will find it."

Sam wished he had her confidence.

* * *

><p>John watched Sam go off with his list of supplies. He hated that he just lied to him, but he knew that it was the only way.<p>

The door clicked open again. John looked up bracing himself for another round with his youngest, but Jen entered instead. She smiled at John and carefully shut the door behind her before coming to sit by John's side.

"Sam and Bobby don't need me to tow a car, how about I stay and keep you company."

"A pretty lady is always good company." John smiled at Jen.

He studied her for a moment. She had been eluding John for years. He checked up on everyone that Sam hung out with at college, and Jen was the only one that John couldn't find. Somehow though, he trusted her. There was no logic behind it, but John had learned over the years to trust his gut, and his gut said that this girl cared about Sam. Dean trusted her too, John could tell. Dean didn't give his trust easily, so that spoke volumes.

Dean. John knew that the chances of saving Dean by conventional means were looking slim. He had an idea, but it was risky. John knew there was a good chance he wouldn't get out of this plan alive, but he had to know someone was going to look after his boys if he didn't. Jen seemed like the only candidate for the job. He had to have faith that they could go on without him, and he only had her to ask.

John was still studying her, lost in thought when she spoke. "What do you want to ask me?"

John was confused for a moment. Had he really given himself away that easily or was she that good? He didn't know, and now wasn't the time to figure it out. He dove right in, asking the tough question.

"I've wanted to ask you more about my boys, what's happened the last few months. You told me back in Colorado that when I left in Chicago, they were wrecked. I need to know what you meant. I need to be sure they will be ok."

Jen took a deep breath and looked John straight in the eyes. He couldn't read her expression.

"You have strong boys, John, I'm sure you aren't surprised, you essentially reared them that way and it serves them well. But you also have boys with hearts, and that strength can only cover a hurting heart for so long. Sam is different than you and Dean, because he wears his heart on his sleeve. He had the hardest time letting you go. But you know what his biggest concern was? He was worried that something would happen to you, off, alone. He had just gotten his father back, and he was scared he might lose him again. Sam's easy. He's usually willing to talk to me, sometimes he even wants to. Dean is another story. He's spent so many years being the strong one that he doesn't always know how to let someone else take care of him. He clings to what he knows, which is you, and Sam, and hunting. And yeah, he was upset after Chicago when he glimpsed his family together again and then had to tear it apart, but you know what really got to Dean? Lawrence. Sam never really knew his mother, but Dean never really grieved for Mary."

John was hit hard by her name. He wasn't expecting to have a conversation about his wife here with Jen. "But Dean was just a kid."

"He was a kid whose father was too busy with his own grief to realize that his son lost the closest person that he had, and never talked about it except in terms of vengeance. In Lawrence he finally had to face a lot of sadness, 22 years of it, and you know Dean, he doesn't want to talk. He'll just bottle it up, get drunk, and get in a fight."

John was hurt by Jen's statement about him, but her voice was without malice, as if she were stating simple facts. She also acted as if she'd known John and Dean all their lives instead of not even a year. She certainly read people well, and she had Dean figured out. He knew exactly what she was talking about, because it was what Dean did after Sam left for college.

John just nodded. Jen continued.

"I caught him after Lawrence, just barely. After Chicago, he talked to me willingly, but only after Sam was okay. Dean is tough, too tough for his own good sometimes. But you know that."

John sighed. "I do."

The conversation came to a pause. Jen seemed to be finished with her description. She had told him straight, no sugar coating or accusations, how difficult things had been for Sam and Dean. Still, John was pretty certain that his plan, a deal, was the only way to save Dean. Deep down, he also knew that the deal would probably include his soul. However, he had never been more certain than now that Sam and Dean would be alright, that Jen could get them through nearly anything.

John looked up at Jen. Her gaze was steady, but she seemed worried, as if she knew what he was thinking. That was impossible though. Even someone who could read people like she did wouldn't possibly imagine John going to the length he was considering to save Dean. He had to let her know that he trusted her though.

"Listen, I haven't exactly been the friendliest with you, but I worry about who my boys bring with them and tell things to. I can tell that you care about them though, and I like you. I know you will take care of my boys if something happens to me."

Jen's eyes squinted slightly and her look was strange, but difficult to interpret. "I think you are going to be fine, John. You shouldn't talk about yourself like that."

John played it off. "I'm an old man, I never know." John wasn't certain, but he thought he saw Jen nod.

For a moment there was silence between them. "Ok, I've had enough here," John suddenly said, pushing himself up. "I want to see my son." Jen helped him out of bed and they headed down to Dean's room.

* * *

><p>John was nearly done with the preparation and getting more nervous by the second. The boiler room had been silent, as expected. John knew that this was his last chance to save Dean. It had to work.<p>

He jumped at Jen's voice and spun around. "John, you can't do this."

How could she have snuck up on him? Her footsteps would have echoed, but he heard nothing. His nervousness turned to anger at her insistence. What could she possibly understand about John's situation, his life, and his decisions.

"What are you doing here?"

"Asking you not to sacrifice yourself."

John laughed. This young girl, telling him what to do? "What can you possibly know about sacrifice?" He muttered.

"I know more than you might think."

Her face was expressionless; her voice confident. As John watched her, she began to glow. John's eyes widened in amazement as she was slowly surrounded by an aura of deep red and orange.

John stood for a moment in shock. He had never seen anything like this before, and he thought that he had seen just about everything. He quickly regained his composure and then pulled out the Colt and trained it on her.

"What are you?"

"I am older than humanity and more powerful than most creatures you've met, but, unlike them, my kind have chosen to co-exist with humanity, and therefore, I have sworn not to use my abilities. You might as well put down the gun, it wouldn't work on me anyway. The details of what I am are not important. What is important is that my highest duty is to protect life whenever I can, and specifically the lives of you and your sons. That is why I'm here."

John was still in disbelief. A supernatural creature wanting to _help_ humanity? He had never heard of such a thing. It simply wasn't possible. This had to be an elaborate trick of some kind.

"Why should I believe you?"

Jen suddenly dissolved and John felt a cool breeze flow around and almost through him. As the breeze passed him by, he heard Jen's voice, only, he was certain that it came from inside his own mind.

"Some things simply have to be taken on faith."

John had heard those words before, spoken by Missouri Mosely to him just before he left Lawrence a few months ago.

_"You say to trust this Jen, but I know nothing about her. I have nothing but your word that she won't put Sam and Dean in danger."_

_"Some things simply have to be taken on faith."_

John realized that Missouri must have known what he and his sons didn't. She must have known what Jen was. Of course, right now, John still wasn't sure what she was. All he knew is that this seemed impossible to fake and that Missouri had never led him wrong.

Jen slowly reappeared on the other side of him. She still had a glow around her, only now it was shades of blue. She spoke aloud again.

"If I wanted to hurt you or your boys, I would have. I've been watching you and your family for over 30 years. It is my job to help you make the best choices. I can't directly interfere or force anyone to take action or make a particular decision. Sam and Dean don't know what I am. They aren't ready. I've decided to show myself to you because our highest law is to protect life, and you are probably about to bargain away yours."

John sighed. "But Dean may not have another chance at life at all."

"But how will he handle you trading yours for his? He wasn't happy the last time a life was traded for his, and that was a stranger."

"We won't tell them. They won't know."

"I don't think anyone will have to tell them. Your kids are smart, you taught them well, and I can't predict how Dean will react, and whether I will be able to reach him."

John had the same worries. Still, he couldn't stand by and do nothing when he had the opportunity to try and save him. "If it means anything to you, I believe you can. I'm not sure I would have done this otherwise."

He looked at Jen again, taking in the full image of this girl, this being. He had never seen Dean trust a person so quickly and fervently, and he finally understood why. She awaited his decision.

"You can't change my mind."

"I didn't think I would, but I had to try. I will leave you then. I want your word you won't tell Sam and Dean what you know about me."

"I promise. Take care of them."

"I will do everything I can." Jen smiled one last time, sadly. Then with a breeze she dissolved into a wisp and was gone.

* * *

><p>John was dead. For a moment, Sam didn't believe it. His dad was fine, just a few minutes ago. He couldn't possibly be dead, right? The heart monitor continued to let off a long steady tone, and then a nurse flipped it off. Tears poured into and out of Sam's eyes, and for a moment he wasn't sure that his legs were going to support him. The warmth of Jen's hand on his back reminded him of her presence and he turned to her, grabbing her tightly. She seemed to provide enough support to keep him upright as that first, horrible wave of sadness rushed over him.<p>

After a few moments, when Sam could stand on his own, he looked around for Dean.

"Where's …" He began, but Jen cut him off.

"He went to put his clothes on and call Bobby. Or I think that's what he said. He walked off rather quickly."

Sam didn't like the sound of that. Dean's coping mechanisms, well, frankly, they sucked. Running away from Sam and Jen was probably not a good start. Jen didn't appear too worried, but Sam knew that her poker face was infamous amongst their friends at Stanford.

A nurse came over to Sam and Jen still standing near the doorway with John's body just inside.

"You need to decide what to do with your father's body." She said.

Those words struck Sam in the gut, and he squeezed Jen's hand as his eyes filled with tears again. He didn't know what to say, to do.

"I'll take care of it." Jen said quickly, looking at the nurse. "I'll be there in just a moment." The nurse seemed satisfied and walked back into the room.

Sobs were threatening to break Sam down again, but Jen put her arms around him in a hug. "We'll get through this. Go wait with Dean."

Just two more breaths and Sam stood upright again and headed down the hall to Dean's room.

He found Dean dressed, dry-eyed, and sitting in a chair. Dean looked up at Sam when he walked in.

"Bobby'll be here in a couple of hours."

Sam sat down next to Dean. "Umm, you okay?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah. I'm fine. Where's Jen?"

"She's handling the paperwork."

"That's nice of her."

"Yeah."

This was definitely not what Sam expected from Dean. It was like he was in some kind of shock. There was no way that was good.

Somehow the three of them survived the next few hours. Mostly, the time went by in silence.

* * *

><p>Dean felt numb. It was simply too much to try and make sense of. He remembered waking up, which according to Sam and the doctor was pretty miraculous. Then his father told him something that didn't make sense at all. Then his father was dead. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something too. Something important.<p>

Right now though, he had to focus on the facts. The fact was their father was dead, the Colt was gone, and the whole thing stunk of demon. The other fact was that they had no idea how to track this demon without John. Dean was stuck. His training was good, but nobody was as good as John. Therefore, Dean had no plan, nothing to do, nowhere to go, except to Bobby's. Bobby did the impossible before, maybe he could cook something up again.

Plus, Dad always said, if something happened to him, call Paster Jim or Caleb or Bobby, they would know what to do. Well, only one of those men was still alive, so it was an easy choice.

Dean watched as Jen and Bobby helped move the body bag into the trunk of Bobby's car. The hospital orderlies were giving a few odd looks, but it seems that whatever Jen and Bobby had said was convincing enough for everyone to allow this. Bobby said they could take John up to his place, give him a hunter's funeral. Dean knew what that meant: salt and burn. No hunter wanted their spirit stuck down here. Not that Dean thought that would be a problem. He had a vague idea, an inkling, actually, more like a dull ache in his chest about where his Dad's spirit probably was.

No. He couldn't think about that. Not now. It was too complicated and whatever it was it was tied up with Sam. If he thought about his dad, and what he said about Sam, it would be too much.

Dean glanced in the side mirror from the passenger side of Bobby's car and could see Sam leaning on Jen in the backseat already, and probably crying again. No. Dean had to wait. Take time to work all this out first. Figure out what it meant. Only then could he talk to Sam, because then he would know what to do.

The ride back to Bobby's place was quiet. What could anyone say? Dean sure didn't know, and he wasn't about to be the first one to start either.

* * *

><p>Sam woke up as the car stopped at Bobby's place to Jen prodding him gently. "We're here."<p>

He must have been asleep for a while, because he hardly remembered the drive at all. That was probably good since he had barely slept at all the last few days.

Then he remembered the task at hand and felt a pit in his stomach. Jen took his hand and gave it a squeeze. She always seemed to know when he needed an extra boost. Then two then got out of the car.

Dean and Bobby were already in the process of transporting John's body to the garage. As soon as they did, Dean mumbled something about checking on the car and took off to the lot. Bobby disappeared off somewhere, and Sam stood at the entrance to the garage staring at his father's body.

Suddenly, Sam felt frozen in place. His father could have just been sleeping for how he looked from here, but he knew that if he got closer it would be obvious that he wasn't. Sam wasn't sure that he was ready to say goodbye. He had so much he wished he had said before. Her touch on his arm interrupted his thoughts.

"Do you want to see him one more time before we wrap him up?" Jen asked.

All Sam could do was nod. He knew that he needed to say something. With Jen's hands on his arm, she gently led him over. Then she let go and Sam looked down at John. He stopped thinking for a moment and picked up John's hand. It was cold, but soft.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry we always argued, and I'm sorry that just as I started to really understand you I lost you. I wish ... I wish it didn't have to happen this way." Tears were obscuring his vision, and he stopped for just a moment to clear the lump in his throat. He had to get through what he needed to say. "I'm going to fight for what you believed in, and we will kill this demon, we will, for you."

Finally finished speaking, the sob that Sam had been holding back escaped and shook his body. He dropped his father's hand and gripped the edge of the table. Jen's arm wrapped around his back and he turned to her, breaking into another sob on her shoulder.

Jen whispered, "I've got you" into Sam's ear and he felt bad for putting her through this.

He mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This is what I do."

Sam wasn't sure he heard that right, and he didn't know what she meant, but it made him feel better anyway, so he didn't ask. He held on to Jen for a bit longer, not wanting to leave her.

She tapped his back gently. "We need to get John ready."

Sam picked up his head, sniffed, and wiped off his cheeks. Jen reached up to his face, cupping his cheek with her hand and looking into Sam's eyes.

"We'll take care of him now."

Sam nodded slowly. He knew Jen and Bobby would take of his dad. He just didn't know who would take care of him and Dean.


	2. Everybody Loves a Clown

Sam watched his father's body burn, the finality of the situation really sinking in. He knew there was something strange surrounding John's death, but he hadn't yet been able to process the whole thing well enough to figure out what it could be. His last words with his father continued to haunt him: nearly starting another fight, but then sent off for coffee. Thinking back on it, the way John spoke, the way he asked to stop the fighting, John knew something. He must have known what was about to happen.

Sam sniffed and squeezed Jen's hand. She squeezed his back. Bobby had lit up the body and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sam and Dean with their father. Jen had silently taken a place between the two boys. Sam only noticed her as she slipped her hand into his. He glanced at Dean and noticed that he held her other hand.

Other than that, Dean was barely moving, showed little expression, and had barely said two words since they got to Bobby's. Sam, on the other hand, couldn't seem to stop crying, except perhaps to worry about his brother's lack of emotion. All Dean had been focused on for the last nine months was finding John, and when they finally did, they lost him again, for good this time. Dean should be reacting.

Sam's thoughts drifted back again to his father's look the last time he saw him. Sam wondered for a moment if he was sent away for coffee for a reason, maybe, just maybe there was an explanation that Dean was able to hear. Maybe that would explain his stoicism.

Sam turned toward his brother. "Before he … before … did he say anything to you about anything." Sam gripped Jen's hand tighter yet again.

"No. Nothing." Dean's voice was emotionless. Sam did finally see though, or at least he thought he saw, a tear slip out of Dean's eye and fall down his cheek. Sam felt slightly better about Dean.

He didn't feel better about anything else.

As John's body slowly disintegrated, Sam found it too difficult to watch any longer. He let go of Jen's hand and turned toward her, wrapping his arms around her as a quiet sob shook his shoulders. She wrapped one arm around him. Dean still had a grip on her other hand.

The trio remained connected until the flames finally burned themselves out.

Jen was the one who pulled them away from the ashes, not forcefully, but in her subtle, way. Back at the house, Dean grabbed a bottle of whiskey and plopped down in front of the tv. Sam was too tired to even try and consider what to do about Dean tonight, and he knew Jen could tell because without speaking she had led him down the hall to Bobby's back bedroom.

Sam looked around the room. He had stayed there quite a few times as a kid. Him in one bed, Dean in the other across the room, and Dad on a mattress between them. It was one of the few places his father felt secure enough not to sleep between his boys and the door.

The tears from before hadn't even fully cleared, and yet new ones were trying to break through at the memories. Sam sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands.

"This sucks," Sam couldn't say more. Just as he was beginning to really get over Jess's death, he was hit hard with another one. Only now, he had no idea what to do or where to go to after the demon. Before, it had been simple, find Dad, find the demon. But now, lost, with nothing. Sam didn't know how much of this he could take.

Jen sat beside Sam, putting her arm around his shoulders yet again.

"Lay down and try to sleep, Sam." She whispered up into his ear. Sam couldn't deny that he was tired, and his eyes were suddenly quite heavy. He lay down and rolled onto his side. He turned his head back toward Jen. He hated putting her out, but …

She responded to his thought, knowing, as she always seemed to, what he was going to ask.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

><p>The next day seemed like mostly a blur to Sam. Dean spent some time helping to shuffle through their Dad's stuff, but quickly decided to go work on the Impala instead. The more sense Sam tried to make of it all, the less sense it all made. Still, he had nothing else to do but push through.<p>

Jen forced food upon him a couple of times, but he only ate a few bites. After nearly falling asleep into one of Bobby's books in the early evening, Jen also forced him to bed. Sam was surprised at how quickly he fell asleep.

He was less than surprised when he woke up in the middle of the night. Dean was out cold on the bed across from him. He had probably been drinking. It was Dean's MO in tough times.

Jen was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Sam wondered where she was. She had barely left Sam's side in two days, except to check on Dean, at least as far as Sam could tell. She must have camped out in the bedroom with them last night, because each time Sam woke up she was right there beside him. Tonight though, the room was still and her spot was empty.

_Her spot._ Funny. She had only been with them for what, nine months. Well, she had lived with Sam for six months before that, but they had separate lives. But now, Sam noticed every time she was or wasn't around.

Actually, Sam was a little concerned that she wasn't right there. Where was she? Could something have happened to her?

Sam sat up suddenly. His heart was pounding as panic rushed through him. Bobby's house was pretty safe, but what if Jen decided to take a walk or sit on the porch? Anything could get her. She seemed confident, but Sam had never seen her fight, so he had no idea what would happen if … well …

Sam scrambled out of bed and walked down the hall. The light was on in one of Bobby's side rooms. Sam slowed and so did his heart rate. He didn't fully relax though until he actually saw Jen sitting on the couch reading calmly. She didn't look up and Sam watched her for a moment. Suddenly, the real fear of the possibility of losing Jen too began to overtake him. Considering the people he had lost recently, the fear of losing his best friend to the dangerous life she had agreed to be part of was all too real. Sam wanted her around more than he could imagine, but suddenly realized that he couldn't ask her to put herself in any more danger, not for him.

With a new determination, Sam entered the room and sat on the opposite side of the couch from Jen. This time she noticed him and slowly put down her book. She looked up at Sam. He avoided her eyes, looking straight ahead.

"I think that tomorrow you should leave. We have no leads, no plans, and I don't know how long we're going to be here. You shouldn't put your life on hold for me." Sam spoke quickly, but focused on keeping his voice steady and calm.

Jen raised her eyebrows at Sam. He continued to look away. "Oh?" She responded with an almost amused tone.

Sam was slightly angered by her response. What did she think? This was a joke? He had to be more convincing.

"It's not safe here. It's not safe with us." Sam made it through the statement, but had to take a deep breath and coax the lump in his throat down immediately afterward. She had to understand that, right?

Jen quickly became rather serious. "Are you suggesting that I can't take care of myself?"

Sam bit his lip. He hadn't really expected a fight. Jen was usually so easy-going and logical. He thought that she would see his point.

"Well, we thought Dad could take care of himself, but he couldn't. People around me seem to die, Mom, Dad, Jess." This time the words caught and he knew Jen could hear it. He blinked hard as tears began to invade his eyes. He hadn't mentioned Jess out loud in weeks, and wasn't expecting the impact of hearing her name. Still, Sam pulled himself together. He had to. Jen wouldn't agree to leave if he fell apart again.

Sam continued. "It's not safe. You should be somewhere safe."

Jen was still watching Sam. Sam was still avoiding her gaze. She quietly shifted on the couch right next to Sam, as close as she could be without touching him. She turned to look outward, matching Sam's position. When she spoke, it was nearly a whisper.

"You mean that you don't want to lose me either."

That may have been exactly what was on Sam's mind, but hearing her say it was like a smack in his gut. He started to shake, trying to hold back the tears that were again threatening to fall. Jen turned back to him and spoke again.

"Sam, look at me."

Sam didn't want to. He held off for a bit, but Jen put her hand on his crossed arms, and he finally gave in to the request. As he expected, the tears in his eyes gave way as he looked into hers. He tried to maintain what composure he could. Jen began speaking again.

"I know the danger. Do you think I don't know what's out there? Do you think I haven't lost loved ones to this life? I have. I know more than you can imagine and more than I can tell. You're hurt and scared, and with good reason, I can see that. But asking me to leave just to spare yourself more possible pain isn't something you should do. You shouldn't push me away when you need me the most."

Sam nodded. He knew she was right about his motives. He took in a deep breath that caught in silent sob. Jen picked up her hand and brushed Sam's hair back from his eyes.

"Do you really want me to leave?" Jen asked simply.

Sam shook his head as he collapsed onto Jen's shoulder in sobs squeezing her tightly. He still felt conflicted. Was she really safe with them? Her voice echoed in his ear, or at least, he thought it must be her.

"I will be okay, Sam. I will always be okay."

Somehow, Sam believed her. He had to.

* * *

><p>Bobby didn't mind having the trio of youngsters camping out at his place. Dean seemed intent to rebuild the Impala, and the lot was the perfect place for that. Sam had nearly taken up residence in Bobby's book room. Bobby had always tried to call it his library, but Jen had retorted, "Library implies shelves." Bobby decided not to argue with that.<p>

Jen was the most interesting of the three so far. She seemed to barely sleep, but yet was always wide awake. She was up first nearly every morning, and had taken to cooking breakfast. Bobby was thrilled, although the other two barely ate more than a few bites. She could carry on a conversation about nearly anything, yet never talked about herself.

Jen spent most of her time trying to help Sam find a lead of some kind. Although, Bobby was convinced that Jen was really just trying to keep Sam from collapsing, and more or less succeeding. Sam was joining back into conversation, eating lunch with Jen and Bobby, even smiling once in a while. Although, Bobby did walk past the book room on more than one occasion to find Sam in tears and Jen at his side. That's when Bobby was most thankful Jen was there.

Dean was another matter. He spent his days working on the car, and his nights pouring over John's research and drinking whiskey. Bobby could tell that he was specifically avoiding Jen, even though she occasionally would try to talk to him. Dean was avoiding Sam, too, which wasn't helping anything, and seemed to be making Sam angry as well.

Bobby's opinion of Jen was growing by the minute watching her maneuver these two during this impossible time. This was more than a close friendship, and Bobby sure didn't know what it was, but he couldn't stop thinking about her as some kind of guardian angel. However, she was still losing against Dean, and even though on the surface she seemed to have infinite patience, Bobby could see hints of frustrations with Dean's forced seclusion.

Dean sat at the desk one evening reading though something of John's with a beer in hand. Sam was already in bed, and Jen and Bobby were watching some sitcom on the television.

"Freakin' cryptic bastard." Dean mumbled to himself as he slammed the book shut.

Bobby and Jen exchanged a glance. Neither of them liked the combination of pent up anger and alcohol. Dean stood up.

"Okay, I'm too tired to read anymore of this shit." Dean drank down his remaining half bottle of beer and headed toward the bedroom. Jen jumped off the couch and quickly stood in his path. Bobby slipped off in the direction of the kitchen, but stood just at the doorway to see if Jen could finally score a win.

"Dean, you know I'm here, right? I can help you." Jen was still being careful. Bobby knew that she didn't want to push Dean.

Dean shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Dad's notes never make sense." Dean smiled half-heartedly at Jen, then he looked a little sad, then he looked away. Jen reached toward his hand and he shifted just out of her reach. "Ok, that bed is calling my name." Dean sidestepped Jen and kept going down the hallway.

Jen looked over at Bobby. She can be hard to read, but this time the frustration in her eyes was unmistakable. She sighed and slowly walked over to the kitchen. Bobby handed her a beer as she sat on a stool. She sipped looking thoughtful.

"So, he's still giving you the big ol' brush-off, huh?"

"Yeah." Jen nodded. "He's never been this bad before. I'm not sure what to do."

Bobby huffed. "At least he hasn't done anything stupid, yet."

Jen sighed. "That's what I'm worried about. If I can't get through to him soon, who knows what might happen. He's already snapping at Sam. I can't imagine how he'll be when they start hunting again."

"What that idjit needs a good hard smack." Bobby replied drinking his beer. Then Bobby paused, put the bottle down and looked at Jen still clearly trying to work out a solution to her problem. He realized that Jen was one of those people who thought about everyone else before herself, and he didn't need three problems on his hands. He pointed his beer bottle at Jen.

"And what you need is a break."

Jen looked up at him. Her eyes looked puzzled for a moment, and then she softened, relaxed, and tried to smile.

"No, really, I'm fine, Bobby. They need me." Jen protested. Bobby knew that she was wrong, even if she believed otherwise.

"Bullshit. You know, I say let the two of them go on the next hunt without you. Make them deal with each other. Maybe Sam will get to Dean in a way that you can't. With any luck, they won't beat each other silly in the process."

Jen thought about that for a moment. Then she smiled. "You are a smart man, Bobby. Maybe you're right. Maybe I have to let them figure part of this out alone."

"They ain't never gonna learn to swim if you keep throwing 'em lifelines."

Jen chuckled. "Are you sure you weren't a philosophy major once?"

"Young lady, I've been everything at least once."

* * *

><p>Sam and Dean returned from the Roadhouse with quite a story, although, they both did an excellent job of leaving out their blowouts about John.<p>

Dean could tell that Jen knew something happened. She was giving both Sam and Dean knowing looks all evening. Dean didn't like it. It made him nervous. Jen always seemed to get to him in ways that no one else could. He had so far managed to avoid her for the past couple of weeks, but it wasn't for her lack of trying.

Still, things had changed just a bit after this last trip. Sam was pulling this perfect son crap which was making Dean crazy. Dean still didn't know what to think about the whole situation. How Dad died, what Dad told him, the missing Colt, if Dean tried to think about it, it made his head spin. So, Dean avoided it. Sam couldn't do it though. Sam couldn't just let things be and leave Dean alone. Nope, Sam had to butt in and bring shit up. Dean understood. He knew Sam felt awful, and he knew Sam worried about him. Man, did Sam piss him off though, and when that happened, Dean struck back. "Too little, too late." Dean felt terrible after he said that, but what could he do? He didn't know how to help Sam. He didn't know how to help himself.

They didn't talk about it that night. The next day, Dean went out to work on the car, like he had been. He figured maybe it was over. Maybe Sam was going to let it drop.

He was wrong.

Dean supposed that Sam thought it would help to tell Dean how awful he felt. It didn't. What could Dean do? It was practically his fault that Dad was dead: his fault that Sam was left feeling guilty, and him who had to deal with it all.

It wasn't fair.

It simply wasn't fucking fair.

Anger clouded Dean's mind. He gripped the crowbar in his hand, barely remembering that he had picked it up. He needed to break something. Without thinking, he swung hard and smashed the window of the junk car next to him.

Not good enough. He looked forward at the Impala. Goddamn car, got them into this mess. Dean lifted the crowbar up and slammed it into the front of the Impala.

That felt better. Slightly.

Dad's car. Dad's fault. Fuck Dad.

Dean hit the hood again and again and again.

Finally, his arms gave out and the crowbar slipped from his hand onto the ground. Dean expected to feel better, but he didn't. Still felt like shit. Tears stung at the back his eyes. It was the first time they had been this close to the surface since the night they burned the body.

He saw her out of the corner of his eye, slowly walking toward him, her long, tan skirt brushing against her ankles with the breeze. She was the last person he wanted here, especially now, after that. He was too tired to defend himself against her. His eyebrows knitted together and he shook his head sharply.

"I do NOT want to talk about this."

He was clear. He was certain, but she wasn't backing off. She came up beside him.

"We don't have to talk."

She slipped her hand into his. Almost as if by habit he squeezed her hand tightly. The tears filled his eyes now at her touch. He knew that he didn't want to do this. Dean Winchester doesn't act this way. It was her fault, damn it. She was the one who did this to him.

"I hate you. You know that."

Dean's voice was nearly a whisper. Jen's response matched Dean's tone.

"Only as much as you hate John."

He hated it when she was right. Dean wanted to hate his father for leaving him, for leaving Sam, and for leaving Dean with responsibilities he didn't want. Still, he couldn't hate his father, which meant the only emotion left was the sadness he had been ignoring for the last two weeks.

The tears finally broke the surface and slid down Dean's cheeks. Soon, Jen had Dean enveloped in her arms and he gave in, wrapping his arms around her waist and pushing his face against her shoulder trying in vain to muffle the sobs that he found he could no longer control.

She kept her word and remained silent, allowing Dean to simply fall apart while she held the pieces together tightly in her arms. Dean didn't know he could cry that long or that hard. Jen never wavered, and even minutes past the final sobs she held on until Dean finally picked himself back up.

Dean ran a hand down his face to wipe it off, and then pulled up a corner of his mouth in as much of a smile as he could managed as he gave Jen an apologetic shrug. She looked at him. She remained expressionless, but her eyes shone in that way that Dean had learned was a smile.

Dean looked over at the Impala.

"Shit." He ran his hand gently over the hood. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll fix it. I promise."

This time Jen did actually smile. She put a hand on Dean's shoulder just before turning away.

"I'm sure you will."

Dean was pretty sure she was talking about more than the car.


	3. Bloodlust

Dean looked across the motel room at Jen. Dean was sitting on Sam's bed looking up cases on the computer, or at least that's what he said he was doing. Sam had decided to take a research trip to the local library. Jen was sitting at the table near the window, reading.

Jen had been incredibly silent for the last few days, through the whole encounter with the vampires and Gordon. She was there. She saw and heard it all, but yet was always one step back, in the shadows. At first, Dean thought that she didn't want to take sides between Sam and Dean, so she let them fight it out themselves. They did too. Dean still felt awful for punching Sam. No one had mentioned it though, and since it all worked out in the end, well, no real harm done, right?

Still, the silence from Jen was a little disconcerting. It was last night that they left Gordon, and nearly twenty-four hours later she had barely said ten words. It made Dean wonder. It wasn't the only thing Dean had to think about. Dean couldn't stop wondering about what Gordon said about black and white, and how true it really was. It was certainly the way Dean had lived up to this point, but now it was a whole new world. Even when he tried to get back on track, his mind just kept returning to this hunt and other past hunts. Who was right or wrong? What is evil?

The worst part was that he never thought of himself as a killer before, and now, well, he just wasn't sure. Sam seemed convinced that he was on the right track by not killing Lenore. Dean wanted more than Sam's reassurance. There was still a lot of stuff bothering him about his Dad's death, and compounding it with this was too much for him. He had to talk to someone, and the only someone available was Jen.

Dean wanted to tread carefully, but he knew this was weighty stuff, and that Jen had a tendency to get a little too personal. Although her silence was odd and he missed her typically ever-present opinion. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as he asked her his question.

"Do you think that some people are killers and some aren't?"

Jen looked up from her book and right into Dean's eyes. Her expression was still and unreadable.

"Is that an academic question or a personal one."

Dean looked away. He felt like she knew what he was thinking, but he had started this, and he had to keep it up.

"Academic, for now."

Jen nodded, looking thoughtful. "There are definitely people who gain pleasure from killing, true sociopaths, though they are few and far between. Most people who kill learn to kill, and any learned process can be unlearned or another process can be learned to replace it."

Dean sat silent for a moment. What she said made sense. He saw his father kill a shapeshifter when he was only 5, so he certainly knew where he learned it. That only left one really important question, and Dean opened his mouth practically before thinking it to ask.

"So how could I, say, unlearn killing?"

Dean sat up on the edge of the bed, placing his computer on the floor and listening intently to Jen. She maintained her emotionless expression.

"The same way you learned, practice. You make conscious decisions not to kill in situations when training and habit would have taken over. The other night was a good start."

Jen paused for a moment. A different expression crossed her face, one that Dean couldn't place. She spoke again, her tone softer this time.

"Why the sudden interest in being such a nice guy?"

Dean shrugged and looked down. That was why he wasn't sure about talking to Jen. She liked to take that extra step into territory where Dean didn't want to go. He had to tell her something though, leaving Jen with silence was more dangerous. She might start talking again, and that never ended well for Dean. Without thinking, Dean started rambling off some of the thoughts in his head.

"I don't know. I just want to do good, help people, want my life to mean something. I mean, I shouldn't even be here, really." Dean dropped the volume of his voice drastically as he realized that he never intended to say that last part. He tried to recover. He shrugged at Jen again and gave her a quick smile. "You know, don't worry about it."

Dean leaned down to grab the computer again, but it was too late. Jen had left the chair and was seated at Dean's side on the bed a moment later. That was bad news. Dean knew he wasn't being careful enough. He let his mouth run and now he was going to pay for it. He kept his eyes down, carefully avoiding Jen. She ignored his avoidance and started talking anyway.

"Since when do I not worry about things. You brought this up, you knew I would ask. Tell me why you shouldn't be here."

_Crap._ Jen is always able to latch right onto to the important part. Dean did not want to answer Jen's question. He didn't even want to think of the answer. Still, she was right there, and apparently not going away. Dean was starting to get nervous and he held his hands together in his lap crossing and uncrossing his fingers. Jen's hands moved gently over his and he held his hands still. Jen spoke again, softly.

"You don't have to talk. We can do this yes or no style if you would prefer."

Apparently, Jen was starting to get used to Dean not talking, finding new tricks to play on him. Oh well. How could bobbing his head hurt any more than he did just sitting here thinking about it all. He nodded tersely. She began.

"Ok, this is about your miraculous recovery?" He nodded. That was the obvious one.

"And about your dad?" Another nod. Another easy question. Everything had been about Dad recently.

"And about the demon?" Dean paused a second before nodding this time. He wasn't sure Jen would make that connection. She was putting the pieces together quickly. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want the lump in his throat or the tears that were filling his eyes. He knew this was a bad idea. Talking to Jen was always a bad idea. He tried to keep his chin from trembling. Jen's voice cut through Dean's thoughts.

"You think your dad made a deal, you for him?"

As she says the words that Dean had been thinking since the moment he last saw his Dad, the tears he was trying to hold back poured into his eyes and one slipped over the edge and slid down his cheek. Jen gently pulled a hand out from where Dean didn't even realize how tightly he was holding hers and moved it to his back, rubbing gently.

"How long have you figured that?" Jen asked carefully. Dean knew he had to talk to Jen, and he began to realize that he had wanted to for a while. There were still things he couldn't say though. Still secrets to keep, but he had to get some of this off his chest. He couldn't keep going the way he had been.

Dean swallowed hard and a few more tears escaped down his cheeks. He reached up to brush them away, still maintaining his grip on Jen's hand in his lap.

"Since he came to see me when I woke up, I knew something wasn't right. He knew he was going to … well, you know, I mean, he said things he wouldn't have said otherwise. About him, and about Sam."

Dean felt himself flinch for a second at the mention of his brother. That was what he did not want to talk about. He took a breath and continued. He couldn't stop on Sam. He couldn't chance that Jen would ask about it.

"And I feel an awful lot like I did in Nebraska with that reaper. Something is definitely not right."

Dean's throat constricted around the nearly ever-present lump and more tears spilled down his face. He couldn't talk anymore and he sat unable to control the trembling as Jen just sat silently beside him. The steady rhythm of her hand on his back was surprisingly distracting and for a few moments Dean just shut his eyes and forgot everything from the last few weeks.

Jen's voice broke the silence. "You know. You can't keep all this from Sam much longer. He can tell that things aren't right, and he won't let up. He doesn't like to see you hurting," she paused for a moment as she slowly pulled her hands back into her lap. "Neither do I."

Dean stood up and walked across the room. He knew she was right. He could talk to Jen. Sam was still another story. He wasn't ready for Sam. He turned back to look at Jen, still sitting and waiting for his response.

"I know, but not yet. I can't face him yet."

Jen nodded, ever so slightly. He wished he could tell her everything, but not this. There are some things that a man has to deal with. Some things, Dean just had to deal with.


	4. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

"This is important to me, Dean, and I'm going, with or without you." Sam's words were calm but steadfast as he stood in front of his brother who was pacing back and forth across the hotel room. Sam stole a nervous glance across Dean's path at Jen who was sitting silently on the bed. Jen nodded gently at him. He felt better. He knew his request would not make Dean happy, but when he talked to Jen about it, she said to ask. She seemed confident Dean would come anyway.

"It's just a stone, Sam. In a town we don't know and put up by a man we never met, and it's 400 miles out of our way." Dean put in a final plea.

Sam had nothing more to say. He just looked at his brother. Dean was already breaking. Sam knew the look on his face. It was the same one Dean would give him when Sam asked for the last of the fruit loops as a kid. Sam always did get the fruit loops.

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Fine. You can go. I'll come. Just don't expect me to do or say anything, okay?"

Sam smiled. "Thanks."

Dean glared at Sam and then pointed a finger in his face. "And if you try to hug me right now, I will punch your goddamn lights out."

Sam scoffed. "Why would I want to hug you, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean dropped his final affectionate nickname and slipped into the bathroom. Sam turned toward Jen who stood and walked toward him.

"Well, you were right."

She smiled. "I usually am."

Sam sighed. "You don't mind, right? Going out of our way to see my mom's grave?"

"Not at all."

"Thanks." Sam smiled back at Jen. He knew this wasn't going to be the end of Dean's complaining or trying to get out of this, but for now, well, Dean was coming. That was the best Sam was hoping for.

* * *

><p>"I'm going to get a drink. Alone." Dean practically spit at Sam as he walked out the door. Sam had no right to do that, to make this about Dad, again.<p>

Dean was walking briskly toward the Impala when he heard the clinking of her heels on the sidewalk. He had a feeling Jen would come after him. She always did, after all. This was not going to be one of those times, though. Dean had enough with Jen's tricks. This time, Dean was taking it to his domain, and she would just have to come along.

Dean put his finger up in the air and shouted without turning around. "Don't get any funny ideas. I am getting a beer this time."

A moment later, Jen was at his side. She sure could move fast when she wanted to.

"Whatever." Jen said nonchalantly. "I believe I owe you one for the last time." She smiled at Dean.

That seemed awfully easy. Still, Dean wasn't going try and fight her presence so long as she let him get to the bar. He knew that he wouldn't let her get to him in there.

Dean shrugged as he reached the Impala's front door. "I'm certainly not going to turn down a free drink."

Dean drove quickly to a bar that he had spotted on the way in. Jen remained silent. Dean wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

They went inside and took seats at the bar. Jen went ahead and ordered a couple of Sam Adams, handing the bartender a ten.

Dean had already decided that he wasn't going to let Jen control this evening, so he quickly finished the pint and pulled a five out of his pocket to order another one.

Jen's eyebrows raised, though she didn't seem surprised. "You said 'a drink' "

Dean looked away and around the room, trying to avoid Jen's prying glare. "So, I underestimated." He noticed a pool table with some tough looking guys playing a round. Nothing can take Dean's mind off of a bad day like messing with some dumb locals. "Maybe I'll rustle up enough for a few more even." The bartender put Dean's second bottle on the counter, and Dean picked it up and took a swig before leaving Jen at the bar and walking over to the pool table.

Dean was playing his scam up the first round and enjoying it. Jen had seemingly left him alone as she continued to sit at the bar. Dean carefully missed another shot with a well-placed scowl, and the meathead that he was playing grinned as he sank the 8-ball. "Good game," he said to Dean with a smirk, picking up the $50 on the table.

Alright, Dean had had enough of the losing part of this game and his beer was empty again. He nodded at the guy and his friend who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"You know, I could still use another drink, double or nothing?"

The guy shrugged and glanced back to his buddy for reassurance. "Okay, I can afford some more of your money."

Dean stared at the table. He knew that he should make this game tighter, dumb luck shots, but he wasn't in the mood for careful play. He liked the look of shock on their faces when he took a break that sank two solids right off the bat. He liked the fact that the stocky guy leaning against the wall stood upright and started to turn a bit red. Dean sank the blue two in the corner pocket. Maybe he would take their money and knock 'em around a bit. That would certainly improve Dean's mood. Right?

Both guys were beginning to hover over Dean now. He sank another perfect shot. As Dean slowly moved around the table to take aim, his opponent scowled at him. "You seem to have gotten awfully lucky awfully quickly." Dean just shrugged and leaned down to examine his angles.

He took aim and began to shoot when he heard a high-pitched voice.

"Oh, there you are!" Jen's words echoed into his ear as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders causing both of them to bump into the table and sending balls rolling every which way. She let go of Dean and stepped back with a pout on her face. "Oh no! I'm sorry." Jen twirled her hair and stumbled backward a few steps.

She appeared to be drunk. Dean didn't believe it for a second.

Dean's pool-playing partner snickered at her. "Maybe you two should just get out of here." He raised his eyebrows at Dean.

Dean pressed his lips together tightly and his fists clenched.

Jen looped her arm through Dean's and bit her lower lip, looking at him with a pout. "Could we go? This place is boring."

Part of Dean wanted to tell Jen to just get the fuck out and leave him alone and to punch the fat fuck with a pool stick right in his smirking jaw. Dean was on a case though, and he knew. You don't get thrown out of local bars while you're on a case. His training took over and he mumbled, "Fuck all of you," as he pulled away from Jen and made a quick exit.

She wasn't far behind him and was in step with him in moments. He turned to look at her, and, as he expected, she was calm, collected, and clearly sober.

"I didn't think you were that drunk." He spat out at her.

"I didn't think you were that stupid." She replied, no noticeable emotion in her voice.

Dean stopped in front of the Impala. Anger seethed through him as he threw his arms up at Jen. "You should have left me. I could've fuckin' taken them, anyway."

Jen nodded at Dean. "Sure, but you would have been beat to shit in the process and probably gotten yourself in trouble before we've even got a lead in this case"

She had to bring up the case. It was the only reason Dean didn't start shit with those guys, and he knew she was right. His mind slipped back to the conversation with Sam earlier, the whole reason he left. He sat on the Impala, the anger beginning to fade, although he wasn't sure he liked what he was feeling instead. He mumbled almost to himself.

"At least you believe we have a case."

Jen sighed and sat beside Dean, both looking out at the empty parking lot.

"Dean, you need to talk to Sam. I know you said you weren't ready before, but he's not going to let up, and that's because he cares about you. I would prefer that you not kill each other or get yourself killed because you felt too guilty to tell him what's really bothering you."

Dean knew that was coming. He also knew that Jen was right. He hated when Jen was right. Dean's jaw tightened as she continued.

"I know being here isn't easy for you, and I know Sam doesn't get that, and I'm not asking you to bear your heart and soul to your brother. I mean, he hasn't said anything, but I'm pretty sure he thinks the same thing as you about John."

His father's name bit hard deep in the pit of Dean's stomach. That coupled with the reference to mom was tough to sit back and swallow. Tears stung against the back of his eyes, but he took a slow breath and maintained his composure. He had told himself that he wouldn't let her get to him tonight, and he meant it.

Jen looked up at Dean, but he gazed outward, knowing the danger of looking her in the eyes. He let her finish; she was going to anyway.

"You said you felt like you did in Nebraska, well, I'm pretty sure I told you then that me and Sam could help you, and that's true again, but he needs to understand and he's not going to want to hear it from me. This is killing you. Talk to your brother."

Jen's final words were a plea that Dean did not miss. He hated making her, and Sam, worry like that, but he just needed more time. He needed to sort out a few more things in his head first. Just a bit more time. Jen would give him that, right? He finally turned to look at her. He swallowed carefully and spoke quietly.

"I'll tell him. Once we solve this case, I'll tell him."

Jen's expression relaxed and Dean knew she would let it go for now, but only for now.

* * *

><p>Dean was completely prepared to talk to Sam. He had the whole speech planned out. He practiced it in his head over and over for nearly an hour while they drove out of town. He knew Jen wasn't going to let him go far without having this conversation, and his glances in the rearview mirror confirmed that. He knew what he needed to say, and he was certain that if he just said it that he would feel better and it would be over, for a little while at least.<p>

Somehow though, his plan didn't quite work out. He gave his prepared speech, but as he sat there looking at his brother, he realized what was going to happen next. Sam would want to try and fix it. Sam was already getting that look, the college psychology, keep talking it out to make it better, analyze his every thought look. No. He had to nip this in the bud, now, so he blurted it out.

"What can you possibly say to make that better?"

Sam was silent. The words left Dean with a sense of hopelessness that he hadn't experienced before. What could anyone say? Would he really feel this terrible forever?

The tears that he had been holding back betrayed their orders and pushed through, slipping down Dean's cheeks. That wasn't part of the plan. Still, Sam remained silent, so at least Dean had that.

Dean blinked, trying to regain his composure and looked up to see Jen standing in front of him. She looked at him like she often did, calm and composed, but this time with an invitation in her eyes. _Let me help it said. Dean couldn't seem to find a reason to refuse._

Since the tears were disobeying him anyway, Dean gave in and let them come as he pushed himself off the car and stepped toward Jen. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hers enveloped him as he buried his head into her shoulder, allowing her body to stifle the sobs which he couldn't calm.

Even after the sobs were through and the tears dried up he held tightly to Jen. Something about Jen was always so strong, Dean felt almost like it would seep into him if he just held on a little bit longer. Soon, though, his grip loosened, and he whispered into Jen's ear just before he stood up again. "Thank you."

Jen looked him in the eyes with the sparkle that Dean knew was a smile. "Thank _you."_


	5. Simon Says

The trio of youngsters entered the bar looking worried. At least, Sam and Dean looked worried. The young woman with them didn't appear to be showing any emotion, and as the boys rushed off to Ash's room, she sat down at the bar.

Ellen watched her carefully. She smiled at Ellen. Ellen did not smile back. The girl didn't seem concerned.

Ellen nodded in her direction. "You want a drink?"

The girl replied. "I don't think we're going to be long, but I'll take a glass of water if that's okay."

Ellen put some ice and water into a tumbler and placed it in front of the girl. Ellen was pretty sure she knew who this was, but it never hurt to be sure.

"So you must be this Jen that Bobby told me about."

"I would be Jen. So, Bobby told you about me." Jen didn't appear surprised. Ellen was trying to get a read off Jen, but so far Jen wasn't giving anything away. Ellen kept talking. Maybe she could get at least a small conversation going.

"Yeah, well, I called Bobby when the boys left after that Rakshasa case." Ellen shrugged. "I was worried. You know, they didn't seem to be taking John's death well at all, and that can be a problem for hunters. Anyway, Bobby told me not to worry because they had you."

Jen looked up at Ellen. Her expression was completely neutral, but something sparkled in her eyes, almost like a smile. "Nice to know I'm getting good word of mouth."

"Although he was a little sketchy on your details." Ellen raised her eyebrows expectantly at Jen.

Now Jen shrugged. "I like my details sketchy." Jen paused and looked Ellen directly in the eyes. Ellen almost flinched at the intensity of her stare, but something seemed to draw Ellen in, make her listen as Jen continued speaking. "My details aren't important. What is important is that I know about hunting and hunters and I know about the Winchester family. I even know more than Sam and Dean. I am on a mission to help them in any way that I am able, and that is the most important thing that I can do."

There was another moment of silence. Ellen felt a little strange, but couldn't help believe what this girl sitting in front of her had said. Actually, everything about Jen seemed somewhat familiar, but as if from a far away world. Ellen was convinced that they had never actually met before. She just must have that familiar sense about her. Some people always do. Anyway, Ellen could see that Jen cared about Sam and Dean, and that was enough for her, for now.

Jen suddenly smiled at Ellen for real. "Any other questions you want to see if I will answer."

Ellen sighed. "No. I've heard enough, and I'll take you at your word, for now, but if you screw with those boys in any way or get them hurt, I will have every hunter in three states after you."

Jen calmly replied. "That's essentially what Bobby told me, and I'll tell you what I told him: I'd expect nothing less."

Ellen paused for a moment taking it all in. Then she looked at Jen and almost allowed herself to smile. "I think I like you."

Jen finished her water and whirled off the barstool. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>They slept at the Roadhouse that night after the whole debacle and a long night of talk with Ellen. All three crowded in a back room that Ellen kept for hunters with nowhere to go. She even dragged out an extra mattress for Jen despite Jen's protests that it was unnecessary. Everyone was tired and fell asleep quickly.<p>

Sam awoke a few hours later just barely able to muffle a shout. He hadn't had a true nightmare in about a month, but his subconscious was clearly making up for lost time. He wasn't too surprised about the nightmare. The encounter with Andy and Ansem just reconfirmed his fears that kids with powers seemed to kill people. He was a bit surprised to see Jen standing beside his bed when he woke up.

"Bad dream?" She whispered kneeling beside Sam.

Usually, he appreciated Jen's presence, but tonight it irritated him. Why was she always there? Always sticking her head into his business? This wasn't something that Jen could understand. What did she know about psychic powers? Sam had to deal with this on his own. He had to get out of there.

"I gotta get some air," Sam said, getting up out of bed quickly and leaving Jen where she was. He pulled on some clothes and grabbed his shoes and headed toward the door. Jen was already standing beside it with her shoes and wrap on. Sam sighed. Not this time. He didn't want to discuss this dream, he just wanted to forget it. He tried to play it off, hoping she would take the hint. He gave her as much of a smile as he could muster

"I'm fine, you should go back to sleep," Sam says to her.

Her eyes bored through him and he knew she wasn't going to leave him alone.

"I have always been a fan of the buddy system, and I was already awake. You're going out, I'm coming." Jen's statement was firm. Sam shrugged and headed out the door with Jen trailing. He went around the side of the house and sat on a bench; Jen sat beside him. He looked at her and smiled again.

"You know, it was just a dream." Sam lied as well as he could. He knew the fear from the dream was as real now as it was while he was asleep, but that was exactly what he didn't want to talk about. Jen was beginning to make Sam nervous. He knew that she could be quite tricky when she wanted to know something.

"If it was just a dream, then why are we out here?" Jen's voice was quiet and steady, but forceful. Sam was beginning to realize that she wasn't about to just give up. Still, he wasn't about to just give in either. She continued talking.

"Okay, don't tell me what's going on. I'm sure this is about your so-called powers. So, some day in the future, when something does go wrong with these powers, we can just be totally unprepared. I'm sure the results of that will be fantastic.

Her words bit, but she delivered them matter-of-factly with no anger or frustration apparent in her tone. The message was clear though. They sat in silence for a moment, and then Jen got up from the bench as if to return to bed. That was when Sam realized that the last thing he wanted was to be left out here alone with his thoughts. He reacted quickly.

"Wait!" Sam called out. She turned back towards him. "I'll tell you."

Jen returned to her seat beside Sam. He took a deep breath and rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants before carefully beginning to talk.

"The more kids like me we find, the scarier it gets. I mean, we watched Andy go from a really nice guy to a killer. I already kill things. What if what's special is something inside me, just waiting to go off, and then I become a crazy killing machine like Max or Ansem?"

Sam breath quickened as the fear rose up inside of him again. Jen's hand gently pressed against his back rubbing up and down. Sam took a moment to try and relax, somewhat.

"That was your nightmare, wasn't it." Jen stated. "You went crazy."

Sam knew Jen would figure it out. At least, she'd figure out the basics. The details were much worse though. Tears filled Sam's eyes and he clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He didn't want to talk about what happened, but the words seemed to explode from his mouth without his control.

"I killed Dean ... and Bobby ... and you ... and I couldn't stop." Tears began to escape his eyes and slide down his cheeks. He brushed them away, though more were close behind. There was still one more important thing to say. "And I … I was enjoying it." Sam leaned over, burying his face in his hands just as a sob broke through and the tears started falling without hesitation.

"I don't know what to think." Sam managed to whisper. Jen's arms wrapped entirely around Sam, and he turned to her cradling his head in her shoulder. This was one of the things he had really intended to avoid this time. It seemed like Jen was under so much pressure between him and Dean that it was amazing she was always so calm. Her calm seemed to transfer to Sam, and his tears slowed even though the fear still held tight in his gut. She spoke quietly when he could listen again.

"Sam, I've told you before, and I still believe that you are a good person, and nothing will change that fact."

Sam lifted himself up and looked at Jen. She was without a doubt sincere, but he was still skeptical of her optimism. She kept talking, responding to his questions as if she could read his mind.

"I know: powers are scary stuff, I'm not going to deny that. But keep remembering that we are here for you, and believe me it's going to take more than a little bit of strange powers to kill me ... Dean, well, I'll just have to protect him."

Sam actually chuckled at Jen's last comment, and, although the fears were still there, knowing that she was in this with him did actually make him feel better. Maybe they could just stay right here, like this. This was nice. This was safe.

For a few minutes, Jen let Sam have his moment, but he knew they couldn't really stay there forever. Jen found Sam's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I think you need to get some sleep tonight."

As soon as she spoke, Sam realized just how tired he was. It hit him suddenly, and his eyes got heavy and he could barely remember why they were outside.

"Ok" Sam replied getting up and heading back to the room. He was soon asleep in bed again, only this time, no nightmares.


	6. No Exit

Jo walked away leaving Sam and Dean bewildered. For a moment, nobody moved. It was Jen who broke the silence, looping her arm through Sam's and tapping Dean's shoulder. Leading them in her gentle way with only a quiet, "We should really get going."

They followed her without thinking about it, both still in some level of shock over the revelation from Jo about their dad. They almost didn't notice Ash running out to them with a folder until he reached the car. He said it was a case. It had seemed simple enough. Three families in three years had moved into and then out of a particular house, clear signs of a haunting. Everything indicated it would be an easy salt and burn.

They certainly couldn't stay at the Roadhouse right now. They needed something to do, and this seemed like it. One of the things Sam and Dean could always count on was throwing themselves into the next case.

What they hadn't counted on was the daughter of the spook, and previous owner of the house 5 years earlier before he died. They also hadn't counted on the story of a father who was never there for years, then came back into her life just months before the heart attack that killed him. It was especially tough to realize that the reason the ghost was scaring out the newcomers was just because he wanted to be with his daughter again.

When they found her a few towns over from the house, they weren't expecting the long heart-wrenching story they got along with the information on his cremation, meaning they had to spend even more time with the woman, Nancy, who was only a few years older than Dean. They did eventually find the necklace that dropped and fell through the cracks in the porch just as the old man clutched his chest and died. Then they had to return it to Nancy. That proved to be the hardest part.

She looked a little confused when they told her that the reason the house was so much trouble was that it was haunted, by her late father. However, she burst into tears when she saw the necklace and grabbed Sam and then Dean in huge hugs while she tried to explain the story behind it.

Sam was finding it difficult to fight the lump in his throat, and he managed to excuse himself and get outside before the tears began to cloud his vision. Jen was waiting for him at the car, standing outside as if she already knew he was coming. He wrapped his arms around her, holding on tightly for a moment to regain his composure. By the time Dean came out after him, he was leaning back against the Impala just talking to Jen.

"Hey!" Dean shouted at Sam. "You left me with weeping willow in there!"

Sam shook his head, "Sorry, man, I had to get out of there."

Dean looked at Sam for a moment and a wave of sadness and sympathy washed over his face. "Yeah, I get it."

Again, it was Jen who nudged the boys into action. The return trip to the motel was quiet. They decided to stay over one more night and get a fresh start in the morning.

Sam realized quickly that staying may have been a bad idea. The memories of John had been pulled too near to the surface for Sam's mind to be anywhere else. He had said that he was going to try and sleep, but sleep wasn't coming. All Sam had was a growing pit in his stomach.

He could tell that Dean wasn't doing much better than him. He was sitting in the dark flipping through the television stations, unable to find anything to interest him. Sam was convinced that Dean was thinking about Dad too.

Jen was in her chair. She was awake, watching silently. Sam rolled over and watched her for a moment. He tried to think about simpler times, when they were together in college. As he thought about it, he realized something about their lives now, something that was very different from college.

Suddenly, Dean snapped off the tv. "Screw this, there's nothing good on anyway."

The room was dark, but no one was sleeping, and it didn't seem like anyone was going to. Sam was still trying to distract himself, and still thinking about college. He figured it couldn't hurt to ask Jen, so he broke through the silence.

"Hey, Jen, why don't you sing anymore?"

Jen looked at him oddly, but held her voice steady and emotionless. "Well, that was random."

Sam shrugged and turned away, looking up at the ceiling. "I was just thinking about it, and I realized that I hadn't heard you sing in a while."

"It was something I did in college, I wasn't sure you'd want to hear it again."

Sam knew what she meant. She used to sing with Jess. Sam felt the small twist in his gut that he still got when he thought about Jess, but it was so encompassed by the larger hole recently left by his father and torn open again by this case that Sam felt this couldn't get much worse. All he could think about right now was that some of the best times he had were when Jen was singing, and he missed those times right now.

"Well, maybe I do."

Dean began to take notice of this conversation. "Well, this is news to me. Apparently something you women-folk did together?"

Sam tossed a pillow at Dean, but he caught it and tossed it back again. "Jerk, I didn't sing, Jen did. You should hear her before you start ragging on it."

Jen joined back in. "I might be a bit rusty, but I could try. If you're sure Sam."

She looked at Sam, her eyes wide. He glanced away. He knew what she meant. It was both the reason he wanted her to sing and the reason he was a little nervous about it. Her songs tended to have an emotional tug that was hard to ignore. Given the right number, she had been known at Stanford to reduce an entire theater to tears. Still, he couldn't kick the thought, so he swallowed carefully and nodded.

"Yes. I'm sure."

Dean squinted his eyes at Jen, "All right, you can sing, but it better not be that annoying high-pitched, opera stuff."

Jen smiled. "I've got something you might know." She began to sing.

"Highway run, into the midnight sun  
>Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind"<p>

Sam smiled. Her voice was as beautiful as ever, peaceful, relaxing.

"Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight  
>Sending all my love along the wire"<p>

It didn't take long for Sam to realize these were words that were going to hit home, and already tears were beginning to sting at his eyes.

"They say that the road ain't no place to start a family  
>Right down the line it's been you and me<br>And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be  
>Oh, just stand by me<br>I'm forever yours, faithfully"

By the end of the verse there was no doubt that this was one of those songs. The tears in Sam's eyes had taken no time to fill up and spill over. He squished his face into the pillow, allowing himself to cry silently, trying to focus on the music and not his Dad.

Jen paused briefly. Both she and Sam waited for a reaction from Dean who was sitting up on the bed and staring outward. It didn't take long. "Keep going." He whispered. Jen complied.

"Circus life, under the big top world  
>We all need the clowns to help us smile<br>Through space and time, always another show  
>Wondering where I am, lost without you<br>And being alone ain't easy on this love affair  
>Two hearts learn to fall in love again<br>I get the joy of rediscovering you  
>Oh, just stand by me<br>I'm forever yours, faithfully."

The final note lingered in the air for just a second, followed by silence.

* * *

><p>Dean was shocked at his own reaction. He liked music as much as, if not more than, the next guy, but he had never been the type to let it affect him like this. His eyes were full of tears as the words of the song brought in a flood of memories about his dad that he had been holding off. One of those escaped down his cheek in the darkness.<p>

Jen got up from her chair quietly, looking right at Dean. Although it was quite dark, and Dean was sure she couldn't see him very well, he also had a feeling that she knew. His suspicions were confirmed when she sat down on the bed beside him. Her arm wrapped around him and he let himself fall onto her shoulder and shut his eyes tightly, finding his Winchester composure once again. Somehow, though, it wasn't nearly as difficult as before. He almost chuckled to himself. Who would have thought all he needed was some Journey. Well, and a good friend to sing it.

"Thank you." Dean whispered in Jen's ear as he lifted himself back up again.

"Anytime, Dean." She responded. That was what Jen always said, but it still made Dean smile. Then, Jen was gone. That was fine. Dean was pretty sure Sam needed her more than him anyway.

* * *

><p>Sam had given up any pretense of holding back by the second verse, and instead, simply turned himself toward the wall to avoid his brother's prying eyes. Although, from the length of silence that had passed, he probably wasn't thinking so much about Sam.<p>

It wasn't too long before Sam felt the shift of weight on the bed as Jen sat down beside him. Her hand ran over his hair and down his shoulder. "Was that what you were looking for?" She asked quietly. Sam tried to nod, but he ended up putting his hand up to his mouth to hold in a choked sob. She stayed beside Sam, running a soothing hand up and down his shoulder. After some time, Sam began to drift off. He reached up as he was falling asleep and grabbed Jen's hand, squeezing it hard in what he hoped translated to gratitude.

He heard her final words as he faded off. "You'll be alright, Sam. We'll all be alright."


	7. The Usual Suspects  November 2nd

It was Halloween. It had been a couple of weeks since they had looked for a real case, after their recent encounter with the law staying off anybody's radar seemed like the best idea, but, still, they found things to stay busy. Tonight, though, they decided to stay in. Halloween wasn't anyone's favorite holiday.

Dean stood outside on the small porch of the motel room they were staying in. Around him, a storm was raging. The sky was dark with swirling gray clouds lit up once in a while by a steak of lightening quickly followed by the clap of thunder. The rain was falling in torrents around the motel creating numerous puddles throughout the uneven parking lot. The tinny patter of rain on the roof and cars was the only sound besides the thunderclaps.

Dean stared out at the rain, hands in his pockets, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. The door slid open behind him as a smaller figure in a black wrap silently stepped out onto the porch beside him, gently closing the door behind her.

"Sam sent you to check on me, didn't he?" Dean turned to look at Jen beside him. A little bit of amusement showed on his face. Dean knew his brother all too well. Jen tilted her head in a shrug, but Dean could see from the smile behind her eyes that he was right.

"He's nervous, about the lightening."

Dean chuckled. "He never liked thunderstorms."

"I know. We spent a number of stormy nights sharing drinks. Even though he never specifically admitted that it was the storm."

"You know, when we were kids, he used to crawl into my bed at the first crash of thunder."

This time, Jen actually allowed a smile to cross her face. "He definitely never told me about that." Jen paused for a moment and her smile faded. "Sam's been a bit jumpy the last couple of days. It's not his favorite time of the year I think."

"I know," Dean responded. "I heard him, last night. Nightmares again?" Dean questioned and glanced over at Jen. She nodded.

"Not my favorite time of year either." Dean mumbled quietly. Jen ignored the comment.

"I like the storms," she said, still looking out over the parking lot that was beginning to resemble a pond.

"So do I." Dean replied. He sighed and began to speak more quietly. "Mom liked storms too. When it stormed, she would take me out to the porch to watch the big streaks of lightening." Tears filled Dean's eyes at the memory. He turned toward Jen. "You know, don't you? That ..."

Jen looked up at Dean, her face expressionless, but her eyes full of compassion. She finished his statement. "That Jessica died the same day as your mother? Yes. I know." Dean pressed his lips together as a tear spilled over and ran down his cheek. He pulled his hand out of his pocket to wipe it away. When he put his hand down again, Jen caught it and gave it a squeeze.

The two stood for a moment in silence as the rain began to let up. Slowly the drops fell further apart, changing from a consistent patter on the roof to the occasional pings and splashes in the puddles in the parking lot. The clouds just above them parted to let through the thin smile of a crescent moon.

Dean gave Jen a return squeeze of her hand just before letting go.

"Tell Sam I'll be in, in just another minute," said Dean. He managed to give Jen a small upturn of his lips. She gave him a knowing nod.

"I will." Jen replied, slipping inside as quietly as she had come out.

Dean took a deep breath. He knew that it was going to get worse before it got better.

Two more days.

* * *

><p>Dean woke to the sound of Sam shouting from his bed. "Jess! No!"<p>

He sat up, instantly wide awake at the alarming yell and looked over, but Jen was already there, trying to get a hold on Sam's flailing arms.

"Sam, wake up. It's a dream. You're safe." Jen's voice drifted through the shouts. Suddenly, Sam stopped and sat up, looking around in a slight shock. Then he pulled his knees up into a fetal position and started shaking. Jen wrapped her arms around Sam and he leaned against her. The sounds of muffled crying reached Dean's ears.

Dean looked at the clock: 3:42 am. Exactly the time Jess died one year ago today.

Dean couldn't watch Sam like that, so his gaze turned to Jen instead. Jen had the ability to remain calm in nearly any situation, and this was no exception. Although, Dean could see in her eyes the wish that she didn't have to be calm: that Sam wouldn't have to go through this terror again. It was a look he knew very well.

Dean knew he couldn't do anything, so he lay back down and rolled over away from Sam and Jen. This wasn't the way Dean wanted to start today, this day. That feeling of being kicked in the gut came upon him as tears pushed into his eyes. Dean shut his eyes quickly, but one tear escaped and slid down his cheek. He took a few slow breaths to calm himself. It was going to be a long day.

It was November 2nd.

* * *

><p>The dream was more realistic than any of the nightmares Sam had had this past week. It was nearly an exact replay of that horrible night and felt like he was there. He hadn't wanted to think too much about what day it was, and he was planning to just keep going, act normal. That was all shattered before four in the morning.<p>

Once the horrible, nearly sick to his stomach pain began to subside, he turned to look at Jen who had been there solidly with him since he awoke. Even though Sam could only see her through the blur of tears that refused to stop falling, he could see the never-ending compassion in Jen's eyes that he relied on far too often. He wanted to say, "Sorry," but he knew she wouldn't accept an apology, especially not today.

Jen smiled at him. "How's it going, Sam?" She said quietly.

"It sucks, hardcore." Sam whispered.

Jen nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. Wish I could do more."

Sam tried to smile, and managed to get some weak movement of his lips. "It's enough." At that point, another wave of sadness came over Sam and he leaned his head back into Jen's shoulder as little sobs he couldn't control began to shake his body again. This time, as the sobs slowly subsided, Sam noticed his eyes getting heavy and he let himself fall asleep again, leaning on Jen.

Sam woke up later, neither him nor Jen having moved. However, this time the grief felt like a dull ache, not like it all happened yesterday. This time, Sam was ready, or as ready as he was going to be, to actually face the day.

* * *

><p>Overall, the day went better than Dean expected it would, for both him and Sam. Jen was a continuous grounding force for them. It felt almost surreal to Dean how easy it was. When Sam was at Stanford, John had almost always spent the vast majority of the anniversary drinking, which left Dean in his usual job of making sure Dad got home safe.<p>

Thinking about Dad brought a small lump to Dean's throat, not the first that day. Within moments, he felt Jen's hand gently squeeze his shoulder. By this point, Dean had stopped being impressed by her uncanny ability to do that. He reached up to squeeze her hand for a brief second. Then they returned to the process of supply gathering.

Later that evening in the hotel room, Dean had something he had wanted to do. It was something that he had been planning for at least a few days. He looked over at Sam working on the computer and Jen beside him, helping out, both with the computer and in general. Dean went over to his bag and pulled out three plastic shot glasses and a fifth of Knob Creek that he had been saving and headed over to Jen and Sam at the table.

"What's this?" Sam asked when Dean stopped and started pouring.

"A toast. You know." For now, Dean still had his composure. He was pretty sure that if he said any of their names though, he wouldn't any longer.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I like that." Dean handed Sam a shot and then held one out to Jen. She hesitated.

"You're part of this too." Dean said. He knew that Jen shied away from Winchester family affairs, but he couldn't imagine where they would be right now without her. She also lost Jess. This memorial belonged to her too. Jen slowly took the shot glass.

The three held up the glasses for a moment in silence. Dean was suddenly unsure of his ability to continue with this. Fortunately, Jen spoke. "To loved ones."

Dean was acutely aware of the tears that filled his eyes, but he held them back. The whiskey stung on its way down.

Sam looked over at his brother, his green eyes also swimming. "Thanks."

Dean could only nod in return. He sat down on the bed, still holding his glass.

Jen and Sam returned their glasses to the table and grabbed each other in a hug. Dean heard Jen say quietly, "You're awfully tired, Sam. Why don't you call it a night."

Sam nodded in agreement and soon was in bed. Dean was still sitting on his bed, but he reached for the bottle and poured himself another shot. The tears were refusing to clear so he shut his eyes and tipped the shot back. The whiskey created an artificial warmth in his stomach, but he still could feel the cold pit of loss.

The bed shifted as Jen sat beside Dean, his eyes still closed. She carefully took the shot glass out of his hands and placed it on the table. "Sam's out already." She spoke. "Long day for him." She paused. "You too."

Dean didn't want to move or respond. He just wanted it to be over. It was that time, he could feel it. He didn't even need to look at the clock. Jen spoke again, nearly a whisper.

"This is when it happened for you, isn't it?"

Dean nodded. Jen placed her arm around Dean's shoulders and he couldn't contain his emotion any longer. He finally opened his eyes and the tears spilled down his cheeks. Jen tightened her hold on him, but just sat silently.

There really wasn't anything to do or say. Dean wiped his hand across his face and let out a deep sigh. Jen broke the stillness. "It's over." She said simply, dropping her arm. Dean turned to look at the clock. 12:02. It was over. It wasn't anything magical, but yet, somehow, Dean did feel better.

He looked at Jen, intending to say thanks, but nothing came out. She just smiled at him with a small nod. He understood.


	8. Crossroad Blues

"When you were trapping that demon, you weren't... I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?" Sam asked, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

Dean didn't answer. He turned up the music and pushed hard on the accelerator. Sam's stomach did a bit of a somersault. Sam was worried about Dean. He knew that Dean was not in a good place after this case, but neither was Sam, and Sam didn't know what to do about either of them.

Sam felt a brush against his arm from around the seat. Jen was inched up right behind Sam and took his hand on the far side of the seat. Sam squeezed her hand tightly and shut his eyes for a moment, trying not to think about everything that happened. The ride back to the motel was silent.

Once they arrived, Sam sat down with his computer at the table near the door and Dean hopped up on the bed and turned on the television to an episode of America's Got Talent. Sam was trying to avoid Dean's glare, but it seemed to be on him far more than the television. A few minutes later, partway into a loud and shrill violin soloist, Dean decided to start the conversation from the car back up again.

"I still don't understand how you are suddenly so defensive about Dad's decisions and so interested in carrying on his legacy."

Sam looked up from the computer. This was not what he wanted right then. "What? Hasselhoff isn't annoying enough, you have to take your shit out on me?"

"I'm not listening to this cello bitch." Dean declared waving the remote in the direction of the tv to make his point.

Sam sighed and looked back at the computer. "It's a violin"

"Whatever, I don't care. I'm talking to you." Dean paused for a moment, clearly waiting for Sam's attention. Sam kept staring at the screen. Dean continued talking. "I don't get this 180 you've done since dad died. You barely even talk about going after yellow eyes anymore, and since when is saving random people the top priority on your list?"

"Well, I don't understand when it became the bottom of yours?" Sam was tired and annoyed and although he knew he shouldn't provoke Dean, somehow the words just slipped out.

"That's bullshit man." Dean sat straight upright then moved to the side of the bed, staring down at the younger brother. "I was helping people plenty while you were living it up at college, and now it's like you are trying to make up for lost time just because dad is dead. I just don't get your motives."

Sam looked up at Dean finally. "Well, I don't get your attitude, Dad gave you a gift, and you are out here trying to waste it."

"Believe me, it doesn't feel like a gift," Dean got up and walked across the room away from Sam.

Anger swelled up in Sam and he snapped at Dean. "If you had done this for dad, I'm sure he would have at least been somewhat grateful." Sam regretted those words the minute he said them, but he couldn't just take them back. He pressed his lips together and looked back at his computer, willing this conversation to end. Dean apparently wasn't ready to end it yet.

"Yeah, well, maybe he should have just left me and the two of you could've been happy together," Dean shouted from across the room. Tears of pain and anger stung at Sam's eyes. He couldn't believe what Dean was saying. He clenched his fists tightly and stood up, staring at his brother.

Her voice cut through the room so that both boys turned to her, almost having forgotten she was there.

"All right, just stop! You are both way past the point of getting stuff off your chests and moving into seriously going to regret this territory."

Sam was shocked. This was the first time Jen had ever really gotten in the middle of one of their fights. Typically, she was subtle, careful. The fact that she was nearly shouting at the two of them almost frightened Sam. He realized how right she was though the moment the fight paused. He hadn't meant most of what had left his mouth in the last few minutes. He looked at his brother who was still staring at Jen, also clearly in a state of shock.

Jen looked over at Dean. "Dean, sit down." He obeyed, sitting at the corner of her bed. Jen turned toward Sam, "Sam, sit down." He sank back into his chair almost automatically. Jen continued speaking. "Now we are going to find out what's really going on here." Jen moved to sit next to Dean and placed her hand on top of his. "Tell _me_ what you mean."

Dean sighed. He glanced over at Sam, and then back at Jen, and then he looked down. "It's just that with Sam constantly invoking Dad, it's just being thrown in my face that I'm here and not him," Dean paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "And now pretty much for sure because he sold his soul for me."

Guilt washed over Sam and he stood up again, only this time, there was no anger, only sadness. "That's not it at all."

He stood up and came over to sit on the other side of Jen. He knew he had to try and explain. "I'm ..."

The words stuck in his throat. Tears filled his eyes. He tried to will them back; he had to get this out. Jen extended her other hand to Sam, and he grabbed it, squeezing tightly. He waited a moment, allowing her grip to give him the strength he needed to continue. "I'm glad that Dad did that for you, because I couldn't stand losing you, and, and I couldn't have stayed with Dad." Sam began to tremble, and the tears in his eyes slipped down his cheeks. "I try to honor Dad's memory because I just feel so guilty for wishing for you to live instead of him, because now he's in …" Sam couldn't finish the sentence, but he was sure they all knew the next word. A sob choked through and Sam put his hand to his mouth trying to stifle the next one.

Jen wasn't about to allow Sam to censor himself, and he expected that. In a second both of her hands were unclenched and wrapping around Sam, pulling him toward her. He stopped trying to hold back and held onto Jen, sobbing into her shoulder.

Sam hadn't wanted to drop this on Dean like that. He knew how hard a time Dean was having with Dad's death, even when Dean tried to hide it. Sam seemed to have no choice though. With the hurtful things he said to his brother, he had to explain. Dean had to understand.

All of the emotions just kept pouring out of Sam, as if someone had broken a floodgate, but Jen stayed steady with him and Dean stayed silent beside. After a while his tears were exhausted and he just held on, breathing deeply but quietly.

Dean's voice floated through the quiet motel room. "I didn't know. I didn't even think about it." He paused, "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam pushed himself up and looked at his brother. "I'm sorry too, Dean."

Dean nodded at Sam, then silently got up and went into the bathroom. Sam wiped his face and looked at Jen. "Thanks," he said, trying to smile at Jen. "We probably would have starting punching each other if you hadn't of butt in."

Jen just smiled. "Anytime," she said. Sam looked at her in amazement. Her ability to act like what just happened was simply another, typical, evening was just something else. She stood up and walked toward the chair across the room. Then she turned back and looked at Sam.

"You should go to bed, Sam. It's late and I know you have to be tired."

As soon as she said it, he knew that she was right. Soon, he was in bed, and soon after that, fast asleep.

* * *

><p><p>

When Dean came back out of the bathroom, Sam was practically asleep and Jen was curled up on the chair with a blanket around her. There was still so much running through Dean's mind, but he figured there wasn't much he could do but at least try to sleep. He flipped off the lights and got into bed.

It didn't work. Dean was tossing and turning and couldn't stop thinking about Sam and Dad and the whole situation. He didn't know how long he been lying there when he heard Jen's chair scrape across the floor. He squinted one eye just open enough to see her face not far from his.

"Having trouble sleeping?" She whispered.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and said, "No." Of course, he knew that wouldn't get rid of Jen. Actually, upon thinking about it, responding at all was the dead giveaway. He opened one eye to see just what he expected: Jen giving him a skeptical look. He opened the other eye and sighed. "Yes."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." Dean stole a glance toward Sam.

"You don't have to worry about him. I know Sam. He'll stay asleep. You want to hear what I think?"

That was a loaded question from Jen, but Dean wasn't going to talk and Jen wasn't going to leave him alone, so he didn't really see a choice. He shrugged at her. He knew she would take that as a yes.

"I think that your well-meaning little brother just accidentally made things even worse for you than before, because I know that when he feels guilty, you feel guilty. I know how hard it has been for you, and tonight doesn't help anything, actually it just sucks, and I'm sorry."

She was right. She was always right. That didn't mean that Dean wanted to hear it. His face and chest felt tight and burned as the emotions he was hiding before began to surface. His first instinct was to curl up and turn away from Jen, but the last thing he wanted right now was to face Sam, even if he was asleep. He swallowed hard and turned toward Jen, pulling his pillow tight to his face, burying himself in it. Jen reached out and slowly rubbed his shoulder as she kept talking.

"Here's the thing, big brother. You have to worry about you, and for now, at least some of the time, you have to let me worry about Sam. I got him, ok. You cannot hold on to all your problems and then take on Sam's too. You just can't."

Jen was doing that thing that Dean hated. That thing where she just told the truth and Dean had to hear it. Tears filled Dean's eyes, and he pushed his face a little deeper into the pillow.

"Dean, I know that you feel an obligation to your dad to look out for Sam, but the best way to do that right now is to let me handle it sometimes. You need to let go."

Her final words hit Dean hard and the tears in his eyes fell out and onto the pillow which he gripped tightly. Jen's hand swept slowly across his head smoothing his hair back

Dean thought about his Dad. He thought about Dad's final words, and he thought about Sam. Jen was right. This sucked. He managed to keep quiet, but couldn't keep from shaking under the blanket.

Jen leaned close and whispered. "We can do this together, Dean. I'm here with you."

Dean appreciated Jen's confidence at this moment more than ever, even if she couldn't possibly know how bad it could really be, especially for Sam. Still, she was there, and right now, he would take that.

Dean pulled himself back together and soon unclenched the pillow. Jen noticed the changes and tilted her head at him.

"Now, perhaps you can get some sleep," She said. She pulled her hand back off of him but he reached out and grabbed it in the air. He knew it was almost childish, but he didn't want to lose her presence. It may have been the only thing holding him together right then.

Dean looked at Jen, feeling a little sheepish, but he had to ask.

"Stay?"

Jen smiled and squeezed Dean's hand. "Of course,"

Dean relaxed back, still gripping Jen's hand, and as she promised, she didn't move until he fell asleep.


	9. Hunted

**This is another jump in time to Hunted, so that Jen was gone for Croatoan. I imagine that she was tipped off as to what was happening there and removed for a short period of time. Of course, the boys wouldn't know about that yet. Anyway, this is just a little bit of being inside Sam's head after everything that happened.**

* * *

><p>Jen finally caught up with them in Peoria. She had been gone since before the Croatoan incident. Just before actually, as she left them rather suddenly in Colorado just before they reached Oregon. Sam didn't think too much of it, Jen had run off for various reasons before. However, this was the first time she had left since Dad died, and that, coupled with the new vision had made Sam nervous. However, in many ways he was glad she missed both the demon virus and the encounter with Gordon. If something had happened to Jen during those, Sam was certain he would never have recovered. He felt bad enough that they lost Ava, and he had just met her.<p>

Jen didn't ask what had happened, yet somehow, in various conversations between him and Dean she managed to get the story. Sam was always amazed at how Jen could do that. She knew just how to coax the right things out of him at the right times, and she knew when to back off. That was good. The last thing either Dean or he wanted to do was relive the last week.

Sure, he worried about Jen sometimes. Things seemed to be getting more dangerous by the second. However, he remembered suggesting that it was too dangerous for her back when Dad died and she would have nothing of it. She said it was her decision, and he wasn't going to make it for her. Funny, she never seemed to get into any trouble. She always just narrowly avoided it, like this time. "Intuition and luck" she had said when Dean joked that she only came around for the fun stuff. Not that hunting down a missing girl with a dead fiancé was fun, but that was Dean's way of saying he was glad she was back.

The search was getting them nowhere. Sam tried to stay upbeat about it. He knew this was more complicated than a typical missing person's case. Still, he couldn't help feeling like he let Ava down. She helped him, and now …

He just had to keep trying. That's how it would work. He wouldn't need Dean to save him, because he could save himself. All he had to do was keep helping people. That's was a good person did. Sure, sometimes Sam felt like giving up. Sometimes, he didn't want to be the one saving people. Let someone else do it. All hunters had to feel that way sometimes, right?

Across the room, Jen gave Sam a smile. She knew by now what John had told Dean. She knew about Sam surviving the virus and running away. She had to know how nervous it all made Dean, as he had been making it fairly obvious. Still, she never looked at Sam differently. She was always there, always confident, and had a way of making everything better, or least, forgotten for a while. Sam smiled back. They would make it. They would figure this out, and he wouldn't stop helping people as long as someone needed him.

The phone rang. It was Ellen.


	10. Playthings

**Sorry I'm late! My muse was a little behind and then so was my life. It seems to have caught back up.**

* * *

><p>Dean sat in the chair staring at his brother. Sam hadn't been this drunk in a while, and how he managed it so fast and without Dean or Jen stopping him, Dean had no idea? Dean didn't know how he had missed this. Sam had seemed fine. He seemed to be handling things. Apparently, Dean was wrong.<p>

"It's not fair, you know." Her voice floated quietly across the room and into Dean's ears. "You were right. You shouldn't have had to promise Sam that. You shouldn't have to be the one to deal with this."

Jen came over to Dean and put her hand on his shoulder. He brushed her off and stood up. "It's always been my job to take care of Sammy. It's what I do. This isn't any different."

Dean attempted to forget what just happened, and he hoped Sam would too. He knew he would never do it. Never.

Jen spoke again, not giving up. "Your Dad and Sam can't understand what they've put on you, but I can see it. You can't control Sam's destiny, no matter what way it goes. You have to think about yourself. You're important too, Dean. Remember that."

Dean was trying not listen to Jen, but he couldn't seem to block her words out. They continued to echo in his head even though she had finished speaking and sat in the chair beside Sam. Dean didn't know what to think or what to do. The sound of Jen's voice broke him out of the confusion once again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to stop him." She looked up at Dean. "You should go. Work on this case. There are people still to save."

Dean shook his head. How could he think about the case after what Sam said? How could he leave Sammy up here? As if reading his thoughts, Jen spoke just once more.

"I'll watch him, Dean. I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to be the one all the time."

She turned back toward Sam and sat in the chair beside him.

Dean stared at Jen for a moment. Still, he had nothing else to do but listen to her, so he left, hoping for something helpful in this case and for his brother.

* * *

><p>"But you weren't, and you promised." Sam made it very clear to Dean that he remembered. Dean was hoping he wouldn't. Dean's eyes darted around for Jen, but she was still walking over slowly, out of earshot. Sam still didn't know that she had been there, that she had heard. Jen suddenly looked up and stared straight at Dean catching his eye. She tilted her head just slightly and raised her eyebrows at him. Even though she couldn't have heard Sam, her expression read "I'm sorry" as loud and clear to Dean as if she had said it. She made her way back over to the car and settled into the backseat just in time to take off.<p>

Sam was quiet for most of the ride. Dean wasn't sure what was going on with his brother. Sam really had seemed fine before this case, well, maybe not fine, but certainly better than this. Now, it was almost like Dean had just told him John's words yesterday. Dean never could understand how things worked in Sam's brain.

Fortunately, Jen typically could. Dean glanced up in the rearview and caught Jen's eye. She was hard to read when it came to most things. When it came to Sam, though, it was almost like he could hear her thoughts. He knew that she was planning to talk to Sam, so he planned to do whatever he could to help. He just wasn't sure what that would mean yet.

The Impala sped down the road.

* * *

><p>This was supposed to be the case that would make Sam feel like he could come out on top, that Dean and him could save people, and that even with what Dad had said Sam could make his own destiny.<p>

Of course, that's not what happened. People died. Dean tried to make Sam feel better about it all by telling him that he did save people, but they didn't even actually take care of the spook, an old woman gave her life to save her granddaughter. This case still felt like a failure.

And Sam still felt hung over.

It was dark when they got to the motel, and Dean had been talking about cheeseburgers and jalapeno poppers while Sam's stomach just turned somersaults. Dean dropped his bag on the bed and turned to Sam and Jen.

"Okay, who's up for some Arby's?"

Sam grimaced.

Jen shook her head. "I have a counter offer. You go get Arby's, and those of us who care about our cholesterol can take a walk instead."

Sam wasn't sure he really wanted to take a walk, but he definitely didn't want to be back when Dean returned with greasy jalapeno poppers and that creepy jelly sauce, so he nodded.

Dean shrugged. "Fine. You're missing out though!" Then he was out the door.

Jen got up and grabbed her wrap. She looked at Sam expectantly. Oh well. Jen's company could typically make almost anything better. How much could this hurt, right?

Once they got outside, the cool air felt good on Sam's face and he took a deep breath. He let Jen take the lead and they began meandering off in some direction. After a few minutes of silent walking, Jen turned to Sam.

"Feeling better?"

Sam wasn't too surprised that she asked. Very little got past Jen, and Sam was sure she caught his nauseous glances at Dean's choices. He nodded. "Yeah. I think my stomach is remembering how it's supposed to work."

"Good. Maybe next time you'll remember to use a less painful method of coping."

Although her words were delivered simply, Sam still felt a bit guilty about what he had done. He knew drinking wasn't the best idea, but he didn't really want to talk to Jen about how he felt. He still didn't. He shrugged as they continued walking.

"Maybe."

"I don't believe in destiny, you know. Everything can change. No one is meant to be anything."

Jen spoke with her usual certainty, but Sam was still having trouble buying it.

"You don't know that."

"I know more than you think I do."

Sam pursed his lips. She was awfully annoying when she got like that, acting like she knew better. She didn't know what this was like, what Sam was dealing with. She couldn't know. Jen kept speaking.

"However, I can't tell you how to think or how to feel, just, consider the possibility that John was wrong and you're really a good person that bad things sometimes happen to, okay?"

Jen's tone softened, and her final word was almost a plea. Sam's anger slipped away to hear his best friend ask him that. Tears pushed at his eyes, but he blinked them back. He stopped walking and looked over to Jen who stopped when he did. He nodded at her.

"Okay."

Jen's face broke into a smile and she wrapped her arms around Sam in a hug. He was a little surprised, but quickly grabbed her in return. He knew this wasn't over, and that he didn't really believe what she said, but he did feel just a little better knowing Jen believed in him. Just a little. Maybe. Maybe it was enough for now.


	11. Nightshifter

They didn't stop driving for three days to get away from the FBI. They switched off driving, Dean even let Jen drive, some. No restaurants, no motels. They slept in shifts. Well, Dean wasn't sure if he actually remembered Jen sleeping, but she never seemed tired so what did it matter. Dean hated this, but he knew it was necessary. Unfortunately, by the rule of too's (too many people, in too small a space, with too little sleep), this was about the time things started to get tense.

He could see it beginning. Sam sat up front, eyeing the radio like he wanted to smash it. Then, in the rearview, Dean could see Jen creep forward and gently place a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam relaxed again. Dean's eyes met Jen's in the mirror. He wasn't always certain that she really could see him that way, but this time he was convinced that she nodded at him. It was her way of saying that it would be okay. They would make it.

"We should be safe to sleep tonight. In beds." Jen stated firmly but simply from the back seat.

"Thank God." Sam mumbled squeezing the top of his nose between his fingers, eyes squished shut.

Dean felt the same relief that Sam expressed, even though he was still a bit nervous considering how much nationwide coverage his face had gotten.

"We can let Sam check in to be careful, though." Jen continued. Sam didn't argue. The next town appeared and after the acquisition of subs, chips, drinks, and a room with two queens and a comfy chair, the trio was finally getting some much needed rest.

Things were fine for a couple of hours, and that's when the nightmare started. Dean found himself inside the bank again, only this time it was empty. He walked around shouting for Sam at first and then someone, anyone to respond. He walked past the security monitors and saw a figure in one of the offices. The figure turned to the screen and his eyes flashed like a shapeshifter. Dean rushed back to the office but he didn't find a shapeshifter there. He found Ronald, sitting calmly in the high backed chair behind the desk with a bullet hole in his head. Ronald tapped his fingers on the desk slowly and stared at Dean. Dean was frozen. Ronald spoke.

"How could you do it, Dean? How could you let them shoot me? You were supposed to get me out of this. Instead, you failed. I died. People died. You are a failure and you deserve to get caught and sent to prison."

Suddenly, Ronald spun back around in his chair and sirens blared as footsteps bounded into the building. A bright light blinded Dean, and when he could see again, he was surrounded by swat officers pointing rifles right in his face. Dean put up his hands.

"You're right. You got me. I'll go. I'll go quietly even."

Then, Hendricksen pushed through the circle of guns and walked up to Dean.

"There's no place in prison for failures like you." He turned and stepped back out. "Shoot him."

Dean dropped to his knees and covered his head with his arms and screamed.

He woke up covered in sweat, and sat straight up in bed. He didn't actually shout. His heart was racing. Dean looked around the room. No movement. Dean slowly tried to take deep breaths. He carefully and quietly moved out of bed and gingerly stepped into the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and the nightmare began to fade.

Dean took a slow moment to pull himself together and then carefully opened the door and went back into the motel room. As he turned to get back into bed he saw Jen sitting on the edge of his bed facing him. He was startled for a second. She looked up at him and nodded for him to come over and sit. He did. Without moving she whispered to him.

"You aren't usually up at this time."

Her words were stated carefully, but not accusatorily. Dean remained silent. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about this. He shrugged. She continued.

"I am. It's better with company." Jen reached over and placed her hand on Dean's which were held together in his lap. He allowed her to wrap her hand around his, and he curled his fingers around hers with a gentle squeeze.

They sat there in silence. Dean was nervous at first. He kept expecting that Jen would say something, ask him what happened, get into everything he was trying to forget. She didn't. Soon Dean further relaxed. Ronald was still on his mind, but he knew that would fade, eventually.

After a few minutes, Jen gave Dean's hand a squeeze and she turned to look at him. "I know you did the best you could. You couldn't possibly do any less. Get some sleep." When she finished speaking, she let go of Dean's hand, stood up, and quickly moved back to her chair before Dean could even try and respond.

Dean felt like he was in a daze, but he was much more tired than before, so he simply got into bed and quickly fell asleep.

When Dean woke up in the morning, Sam and Jen were already up and having breakfast. Dean looked over at Jen, wondering if what happened last night was real or simply another part of his dream.

Jen stood up and walked over to Dean with a muffin in her hand. "Sleep well?" She asked as she handed it to him. Dean looked into her eyes, and although her face was still, her eyes held a knowing smile, and he was certain that what he remembered was real.

Dean smiled at Jen, taking the muffin. "Yeah." He responded with a slight nod. "Yeah, I did."


	12. Houses of the Holy

Sam looked at his brother in anticipation of what he would say. He'd never seen Dean look quite this mystified before.

"What? Dean, what did you see?"

Dean hesitated as he responded. "Maybe … God's will."

Dean stared at Sam. Sam was a little surprised at what he had heard, and even more surprised at how it seemed to affect Dean. Jen's voice cut through the silence.

"Just because someone got what's coming to them doesn't make it God's will. I'm pretty sure Karma has been around quite a bit longer than the Christian God."

Sam was only a bit surprised to hear Jen's skepticism. She had been remarkably quiet throughout this hunt, especially around the talk of God and angels.

Dean looked over at Jen. "What does that mean? Isn't there only one God?"

Jen kept her eyes on Dean, but took a seat next to Sam. Sam slipped his hand into Jen's and she gave his a squeeze as she spoke "Why should there be? I don't necessarily believe that there is one all-powerful being called God that watches and controls what happens on Earth."

Dean looked puzzled. "I don't usually drink that kool-aid either, but this guy was doing something wrong and then taken out. It was just a little too coincidental, and another thing I don't believe in is coincidence."

Jen shrugged. "I do believe in forces bigger than humans."

"What does that mean?"

"I think that there is balance in the Universe. All the pieces fit together like a puzzle that's too big for us to see. But, we're all part of the same puzzle, connected to each other. We don't need something bigger or more powerful to watch over us, we are all here to watch out for each other, the Universe sees to that."

"So, I guess you don't believe in Angels either."

"Perhaps some type of Angels exist, but who's to say where they fit into the puzzle or what their motives are. I guess I'd just have to wait and see."

Dean nodded at Jen. His expression made it difficult to determine what he really thought about that, but for now, he was done asking questions. He slowly got up and headed into the bathroom.

Sam had been listening to Jen carefully. In the years that he had known Jen, this was first time she had spoken about this subject. What she said was different from, well, anything he had ever heard before. Religious beliefs weren't exactly something that the Winchesters talked about, and they were mentioned even less often in college where students were usually getting away from their religious roots. Sam had always assumed that God was watching over them, well, God or nothing, and he had chosen to try and remain optimistic. Anything, even a God he wasn't sure about was better than nothing. Then, after this case, Sam wasn't even sure about that God. But, just as suddenly, Sam had a whole different perspective to consider.

The thing that really was sticking with him was "we are all here to watch out for each other, the Universe sees to that." It kept returning to his thoughts, like a reminder. If a God, or the Universe, or whatever it was, was watching over him, maybe it was in some indirect way. Sam looked toward Jen, still sitting beside him holding his hand. Jen had dropped everything to be with him, and he still didn't know why. Maybe she was the one watching over him.

Jen turned toward Sam. Her eyes shone as if with a smile though her lips didn't turn. At her look, all the emotion of this case hit him hard and his eyes filled with tears. He dropped Jen's hand and wrapped his arms around her in a hug as one tear slid down his cheek. She returned Sam's embrace. He whispered in her ear.

"So, do you think the Universe sent you to help me?"

Jen answered him with certainty. "I know it did."

Later that night, Sam was asleep, and Dean had been watching infomercials for a while, but shut them off, trying to fall asleep himself. It had been a while and he still wasn't sleeping. He was still thinking about everything, Angels, God, when Jen had said, and what his mother used to say.

The room was quiet, but not completely. A low hum was coming from Jen's chair in the corner. She must be awake. She was always awake it seemed. However, the humming was new. Dean had only just learned that she could sing and now it seemed that she did practically all the time. Usually, it didn't matter; Dean actually enjoyed the background more than the silence.

This time was different. Dean was just beginning to make out the tune and it hit him as Jen switched to lightly singing the words.

"Hey Jude. Don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better."

Tears filled Dean's eyes. _Why did she have to go and pick that one now. _He couldn't listen to it, he just couldn't.

"Please stop." He spoke, just above a whisper.

"Dean?" Jen responded. "You're awake?"

"The song. Please don't sing that song."

Jen looked at him, her eyes asking the question that Dean didn't want to have to answer. He knew he would though. Jen would never let him get away without an explanation. He might as well bite the bullet rather than drag it out. Tears began to fall down his cheeks as he whispered.

"Mom used to sing me that song. She didn't know any lullabies." He choked on the last word, and sniffled quietly as he brushed tears off his cheeks. Mom. Mom who sang Hey Jude and told Dean that there were Angels watching over him. Things he would never forget. Could never forget. Things he usually kept hidden away inside himself. These weren't things he could talk about with Sam. Dean knew that part of Sam was always jealous that Dean got to know their mother. Dad never talked about Mom. Yet, with Jen, it seemed to keep happening.

This case had almost been like torture. It was because of his mother that Dean couldn't easily believe in God and Angels. If they were really there, why do they let such evil things happen? Why would they let her die?

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by Jen's fingers gently brushing through his hair. She had pulled her chair right up to the bed without Dean noticing. She was silent now, just watching.

Dean began to think about what she said earlier, about the Universe finding balance. If that was true, where was the balance for his mother's life? He looked at Jen.

"Why would the Universe let Mom die?" He asked.

"I don't know. Honestly, we may never know. It's all so big that trying to work out all the details can make a person crazy. I have faith that somehow, somewhere, things are better because of that, even if it had to hurt like hell for that to happen."

Dean still wasn't sure. Faith was still a word he hadn't completely gotten used to. What seemed like a long time ago in Nebraska, Layla told him that she had faith that he was supposed to be healed and that she wasn't. This was the same kind of faith. Not knowing why something terrible was happening but knowing something good had to come of it.

Dean wanted to believe. He wanted to have this faith, however, all he could feel right now was pain and sadness.

Dean didn't realize how hard he was gripping the blankets until Jen slipped her other hand into his, moving the blanket and giving his hand a squeeze. She whispered.

"It's okay. I have enough faith for both of us."

As Dean lay, thinking, grasping Jen's hand, her melody began again, but it had changed.

"Now I've heard there was a secret chord  
>That David played, and it pleased the Lord<br>But you don't really care for music, do you?  
>It goes like this the fourth, the fifth<br>The minor fall, the major lift  
>The baffled king composing hallelujah<p>

Hallelujah, hallelujah …"

Dean couldn't remember hearing any other words as he finally fell asleep.


	13. Born Under A Bad Sign

Dean's head was spinning. How could everything fall apart so quickly? First it was Jen with another of her sudden emergencies. Then, not two days later, Sam went missing.

Jen was acting so strangely. She finally caught up to Dean on the way to Bobby's. Dean wasn't sure how to describe her attitude. The best he could imagine was a highly restrained anger. Her general demeanor was the same as during any emergency situation. She looked over his wound, discussed calmly what had happened, and helped plan the next steps. It was her eyes that were the giveaway, though. If Dean looked into her eyes it was almost frightening, like she might explode any moment, but she never did.

The thing that really caught his attention though was after Sam/Meg was tied to the chair, restrained inside the Devil's trap, but still unconscious. Dean and Bobby were out preparing and Jen was watching Sam. As Dean returned to the room he saw her crouching right next to Sam's head and whispering something into his ear. As Dean got closer he could hear some.

"Just because I'm gone does not give you free reign to possess my charges."

Then Jen stopped abruptly and stood up. When she turned toward Dean, her expression was calm and collected. Dean knew better than to ask. Right now, Jen's behavior was the least of his concerns. Plus, she was always watchful of Sam, so reacting angrily would be typical of a person, right? It was just that Jen was so rarely typical.

Still, working together, they did what had to be done. Meg left; Sam was returned. Now, all Dean had to worry about was the consequences.

* * *

><p>Sam felt like perhaps he was still in shock. Whatever the impact of this possession was going to be, it definitely hadn't hit him yet. That was good. He was able to appreciate Dean's joke about having "a girl in him" and even chatted during the drive out of Bobby's yard. Though, as the day progressed, things got worse. Sam's mind kept drifting back to the horrible things he had watched Meg do with his body. The terrible way he treated people, how he tortured Jo, and when he killed the hunter. Soon, it seemed every lull in the conversation brought him back to the vision of the dead man on the floor. Sam blinked his eyes hard trying to will the thoughts away.<p>

Jen's hand gently squeezed his shoulder for about the thousandth time that day. This time, Sam reached up and grasped it. He didn't know why, but when he did that it was easier to push the thoughts from his mind. He held on for a long moment and then let go and Jen slipped back into her corner of the backseat.

Suddenly, Jen spoke up. "I'm hungry. Can we get an early dinner?"

It was only about 6 o'clock, but it was already pretty dark. Typically, they would drive for another hour or so and catch a late dinner just before getting a place for the night. Sam was hoping Dean would take the suggestion, however, as he was getting to the point where he wasn't sure how much longer he could sit in the car.

"Yeah." Dean replied from the behind the wheel. "I could use a good burger. Go ahead and watch for a place."

Sam let out a sigh of relief. Within the next half hour a burger place was found and food was eaten, although Sam wasn't all that hungry. By nine they were settled into a decent motel room with wifi and Sam was able to remain distracted by case trolling through his favorite "news" sites, for a while.

It wasn't even the internet that did it, but whatever Dean was watching on TV. It must have been any one of the many cop and lawyer shows out there, but this one ended up focused on a guy with a penchant for torturing young blonds. Sam's eyes were pulled to the screen and distraction lost its hold as the evening with Jo began to replay in front of him.

Dean must have spotted Sam staring, because he shut off the TV muttering something about "stupid, predictable cop shows." Sam turned toward Jen who had been settled reading on the far bed, Sam's usual bed. She was, as usual, aware of the situation and had already put her book down and was watching Sam carefully.

"All right, I'm going to call it a night." Dean declared from his bed as he reached out to turn off the main light, leaving just the lamp near Sam at the table and the bathroom light on. Sam quickly shook off the memory and got up.

"Yeah, I'm in on that." He shut the computer and looked at the light. Before shutting it off though, he looked again over at Jen, still on his bed, still watching him. _Please don't get up yet. _Sam pleaded silently in her direction, hoping that she could tell what he wanted. Fortunately, Sam's look or Jen's intuition held her in place as he turned out the remaining lights and headed toward the bed. He also managed to hold back the tears that were building in his eyes, at least until he was safely on the bed, in the dark, with Jen's arm around his shoulders.

Finally unable to escape from his experience, Sam found that once he let the tears fall, though, there was no easy way of stopping them. The memories were too near the surface, and Sam pulled his knees to his chest, shut his eyes, and allowed himself to fall into Jen, and she just sat with him quietly. Sam was hoping to fall asleep, but he soon realized that was going to be more difficult than he expected. As he began to drift off, the sensation was so similar to the feeling of being pushed out of his own consciousness by Meg, that he immediately jolted awake in a wave of panic. A sob broke through and Sam put his hand to his mouth to keep quiet. The last thing he wanted was to alarm Dean.

He felt Jen squeeze his shoulder. Then, she reached her hand over to Sam's face and gently swept her thumb across his cheeks as she whispered. "Shhhh." Then, she began to hum Ave Maria. It was familiar to Sam, a melody that Jen had sung often when they lived together at Stanford. Listening to the music, the memories that had seemed so clear and biting before seemed to fade more easily, and finally, Sam began to drift off without the tightness in his chest pulling him back. Just as Sam was almost out, he recalled Jen whispering to him.

"Don't worry. I won't let this happen again."

* * *

><p>Dean woke up before Sam. He glanced over to Sam's bed, where Sam looked surprisingly peaceful considering the night he had. Dean knew. Dean always knew. Fortunately, Dean also knew that Jen was there, which is probably why Sam was able to sleep at all. Dean wasn't sure he would have been. Jen was still there, sitting beside Sam, still watching him.<p>

Dean got up slowly and quietly. Jen smiled at him. He raised his eyebrows at her and mouthed, "coffee?" She nodded and slowly moved herself off the bed so as not to jar Sam. They grabbed jacket and wrap and headed out the door.

Dean didn't waste any time getting to the point. "So, is he going to be okay?"

Jen smiled at Dean. "Yes. He will definitely be okay."

Dean looked at Jen, and her expression was entirely confidant. He had to believe her, plus, she had never misled him before. "Good." Dean said with a sigh. "Still, I can't believe that happened. It should never have happened. I should have been able to protect him from that."

Jen stopped for a moment, her eyebrows knit together. "Hey." She said, and Dean stopped and turned back to look at her. "This isn't your fault. Demons are tricky. She got past me, too." The last line came out quietly, but Jen quickly continued her thought. "What's important is not to let it happen again, to either of you." Jen began walking again, and Dean took quick steps to keep up.

_to you, _Interesting that she didn't talk about herself. That was like Jen, though, selfless almost to a fault.

Dean fingered the necklace that Bobby gave him. "These are good, but they can still be taken off. I wish we could get something more permanent."

The two walked in silence for a moment as they arrived as a local convenience store and acquired the necessary caffeinated beverages. The idea came to Dean as he paid the girl with the long jet black hair and tattoos up and down her arms. He waited until they were outside again, returning to Sam.

"Do you think these protection symbols would work as tattoos?" He thought out loud, looking at Jen for confirmation.

She thought for a second. "You know, I bet they would." Jen smiled at Dean, which was essentially her blessing. Dean sipped his coffee and smiled himself. Freakin' demons were gonna have to find other people to invade because after today, Winchesters were going to be no trespassing zones.


	14. Tall Tales

"So, it is you." Jen's voice floated across the empty auditorium, just a few minutes after the trio of hunters had left. She wore an old fashioned long skirt and top in white. The trickster stood and looked at Jen, surprised for a few seconds. Then, he smiled broadly and came toward her.

"My darling! I wasn't sure you would come." He paused and the smile faded as did the volume in his voice. "I wasn't sure you would want to see me again." He spoke with just a hint of sadness and nostalgia.

Jen came forward and the two met in the middle of the aisle. She spoke quietly.

"It's been a long time. Things change. People change."

For a moment the two just stared into each other's eyes. The trickster spoke again.

"So, you're the one assigned to them. I wondered if it would be you."

"It's not an easy assignment. It's taken over twenty years to get this far." Jen broke eye contact, looking around the room instead of at the trickster. "I wanted to thank you for not breaking my cover."

The trickster continued to stare at Jen. "Yeah, well, they'll need you."

Jen smiled. "You cut that rather close, though."

The trickster shrugged and smiled slyly. "Gotta make it look good. They suspect when it's too easy."

Another silence lingered in the air. This time, Jen spoke first.

"I should go. I don't want them to realize I left."

She turned to leave and the trickster reached and grasped her hand. He became quite serious.

"Tell me we'll meet again? Perhaps we can even be together again?"

Jen turned back to him. She gently placed her hand to his cheek. "You said yourself that they need me, and now more than ever."

The trickster placed his hand over Jen's. "I know. I know."

Jen smiled gently, though the sadness shone through in her eyes. "I am sure we will meet again." She pulled her hand back and stepped away from the trickster who appeared nearly frozen in space, watching Jen as she faded away with a final whisper. "Goodbye, my beloved."

The trickster stood in the auditorium, alone again. Then, he too vanished.


	15. Roadkill

Molly was gone. The trio returned to the motel mostly in silence.

Sam was feeling very unsettled after this case. It wasn't often that they interacted with the ghosts on that level, actually, not at all that he could remember. It really brought a new perspective to what they do when they salt and burn, especially after having to admit that he doesn't really know what happens, or if it was good or bad.

He had to assume it was good, right? Being trapped in a never-ending cycle of your own death certainly wasn't good, so release had to be better. He already knew there was a Hell, and had encountered enough hellhounds to make it seem real. Therefore, there must be a Heaven, and it must be wonderful … or at least better than here. Damn near anything was better than here sometimes.

As they entered the motel room, Dean called the shower and Jen moved quickly and quietly to the chair in the corner. She had been awfully quiet on this case. She had been with them the entire time, but had barely said two words, even to Molly. Sam felt there was something odd about it, but he couldn't place what. Anyway, she would talk to him. She always did.

He sat down on Dean's bed and looked at Jen. "So, where do you think the spirits go, you know, when they aren't trapped here anymore."

Jen looked at him and shrugged. "I suppose it's a mystery."

Now, Sam was really confused by her behavior. This was typically the woman with the strong opinion on everything. A shrug? To that kind of question?

"Are you okay?"

Jen smiled at Sam. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't think about that kind of thing."

Sam didn't believe her. There was something else, something she wasn't saying.

"Well, I don't usually either, but after tonight. It just, I don't know, I want to think that Molly went to Heaven. That that's where they all go."

"What's Heaven exactly? It seems to me that it's a place people have idealized into some kind of perfection. Who's to say that's where you want someone to go?"

Jen's statement carried her usual air of aloofness, which to Sam felt cold. He couldn't understand why she would be so negative about something like Heaven.

"I just … I need to think that there is a better place, because that's where my mom is, where Jess is. They can't just have burned into nothing."

Sam hadn't really expected that this was where the conversation would take him. Or at least, he had hoped that she would have confirmed this thought without him ever having to say it. Now, though, he wasn't sure what was going to happen. His throat felt tight and tears stung at his eyes.

Jen looked him straight in the eyes, still unmoved by the conversation. "But you don't really know, do you?"

That was not what Sam wanted to hear, especially from his typically comforting best friend. Tears filled his eyes. His gut burned. "How can you say that?" He said quietly.

Jen finally appeared to realize how Sam was feeling because she softened and leaned forward in the chair slightly.

"Oh, Sam." Her brow furrowed. She got up from the chair moved next to Sam on the bed. He quickly crossed his arms in front of him, not really wanting her to touch him right then. She continued. "I can't tell you what I don't know, and I don't know about Mary and Jess."

Sam stood up. He wasn't sure exactly why, but tonight it seemed that every word Jen said just made him more and more angry.

"You know what? Forget about it. I don't really need this right now."

Jen tried once more. "Sam …"

"Just shut up. Okay. Right now, I just need you to shut up." Sam snapped at Jen, his voice louder, though not quite a shout.

Dean opened the bathroom door and entered the room wrapped in towels. He gave a confused look to Sam and Jen.

"Ummm, there some kind of problem here, kids?"

"I don't have any problems." Sam muttered as he flew past Dean and into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and stood over the sink. How could she act like that? He splashed cold water on his face and then looked in the mirror.

Why did he care so much about what Jen thought anyway? Since when was she the authority on the afterlife? Sometimes, Sam felt like he barely knew Jen. Sure, they talked about lots of personal issues, but they were mostly Sam's issues. Jen rarely opened up about herself, even now. It was like she was continuously hiding something and simply avoided topics that might shed light on that feature by logically circumventing them. Like now.

Whatever. She might have all kinds of issues with Heaven and Angels and God, but that didn't mean she was right. Jess had to be somewhere better, and God had to be watching over them all. Jen was just too pragmatic to deal with that, and that was her problem. Sam didn't need her approval. Right now, he didn't really need her at all.

He would just keep telling himself that.

* * *

><p>Dean was more than a little shocked at the state of affairs in the motel room when he left the bathroom. After Sam stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, Dean started pulling out clothes and looked at Jen who had moved back into the chair in the corner. He didn't like the expression on her face or the fact that she seemed awfully distracted. Although, thinking about it, she had seemed a little off ever since they took down that trickster. She was quieter, seemed to be in another world more often. Dean noticed, but still didn't think he knew her well enough to ask. Sam didn't seem interested in finding out what was up with her either. It wasn't a problem, just, odd.<p>

However, now this seemed to be a problem. Dean pulled his shirt over his head and walked over to sit in the chair at the table. He flipped open the computer to feign working before he spoke.

"So, what was that all about."

Jen looked up at Dean. Her face was still, but her eyes were sad. "He asked me a question, and I couldn't give him the answer that he wanted to hear."

Dean looked confused. "About what?"

"Heaven."

Dean nodded. At least now he was starting to understand why Sam flipped out. His little brother was the only one of the trio who continued to harbor the improbable notion that there was a better place and God cared to send souls there. "Yeah, he has a thing about that kind of stuff, doesn't he, and I guess this whole thing with Molly didn't really help."

Jen sighed. "How can you guarantee that someone who died is in a better place? I mean, I want Sam to believe that if he needs to, but I can't say it for sure." Jen's brow furrowed. "I should have noticed how he was reacting, though. I shouldn't have let that happen. I know better."

Dean was a little confused by her last statements, but confusion while in a conversation with Jen was nothing new. Still, he didn't like the fact that she seemed really upset over the whole incident. "Hey, he's not exactly the easiest guy to get along with, I should know. Don't worry about it." Dean wish he could help. He knew that Jen shouldn't blame herself for this. It could have happened to anyone.

Jen looked up at Dean again. Her face softened into a tiny smile. "Thank you, but I have responsibilities too." She said quietly. Dean had no idea what she meant. Jen was talking in riddles again, but he could tell that she was done with this conversation, and he respected that.

When Sam returned after his shower, everyone simply went to bed with no further discussion.

The next morning, Sam didn't say anything, but his hushed and sharp demeanor made it clear to Dean and almost certainly to Jen as well that he hadn't forgotten the night before. Jen stayed quiet. Dean hoped this wouldn't last long.

How long could Sam really hold this grudge, right?


	16. Heart

Turned out that Sam was pretty good at holding grudges.

It was the day after they killed the werewolf that turned Madison. Sam still felt pretty terrible that he had to lock her in a closet all night, but at least he didn't have to shoot her. They were back at the motel trying to get some sleep since tonight the plan was to stake out Madison's place to make sure she didn't turn. Dean was sleeping like a baby. Sam was another story.

It had been a rough week for Sam in general. He still hadn't really forgiven Jen for her comments after the last case, and so they hadn't been speaking much. What that meant was that Jen was very quiet most of the time. Dean tried to just keep going as usual, and Sam was playing along fine, but he couldn't help feeling like something was wrong. Something other than this philosophical fight on which neither of them seemed willing to give. Whatever it was, it hadn't gotten figured out yet.

Sam glanced over at Jen, sitting in a chair with her eyes closed. She could be asleep or not. It was always hard to tell with her insomnia. He decided to go outside for a bit. Take a walk, clear his head. Then get some sleep.

The walk part worked just fine. The clearing his head part didn't really work that well. It was all still bothering him, but he needed some rest, so he went back to the room to try again. When he arrived Jen was awake and reading. She looked up as Sam entered the room and her eyes followed him across. She had a look on her face that Sam recognized, and it wasn't one of his favorites.

He walked over and sat in the chair across the table from her. "What do you want to say to me?"

Jen kept her gaze steady with Sam. "You don't want to hear it."

Sam shrugged. "Tell me anyway."

Jen glanced away for a second and then back again. "It doesn't work."

Sam thought he knew what she was talking about, but he had to be sure before actually getting angry again. "What doesn't work."

"Severing the blood line: It's a myth. It doesn't work. You can't cure a werewolf that way."

Sam gave a skeptical look to Jen. "How would you know? My Dad thought it was possible and he was a great hunter."

Jen continued to match Sam's gaze and her voice was quiet and still. "I know things. It doesn't work. I just want you to be prepared."

Sam turned away and muttered. "You just don't want me to be happy."

Jen's eyebrows raised in a look of shock. It was not typical of Jen to be shocked. Sam wasn't sure he had ever seen that expression from her before. She paused for a moment before responding in her perfectly calm way.

"That's not true, Sam. In fact, I only want you to be happy."

Really? Sam thought. It didn't seem that way to him. Just hearing her say that made him even more angry. He pointed his finger at her across the table.

"I don't believe that. I think that you want me to be sad and broken, someone to fix, and I've had enough of the pessimism, about Jess, and Heaven, and about this. This is going to work. Madison is going to be fine!"

Sam didn't realize how loud he was starting to get until he heard Dean rustle in the bed and then sit up.

"What the fuck is your deal, man?" Dean said with a yawn.

That was the last thing he needed, Dean messing with him too. Screw them both. "Why don't you ask her." Sam muttered as he stormed out of the motel room.

* * *

><p>Dean looked over to Jen who was still sitting calmly with one hand up to her forehead in thought, though in her eyes she almost looked weary, like she simply couldn't handle Sam for another minute. Being that Sam had been short on patience with her for a week, Dean could understand that it was getting to her. Actually, he was surprised that she had lasted this long without fighting back. Getting Sam to walk out though … this time it must have been something big.<p>

Dean walked over and sat where Sam was previously. "All right. What did he do?" Dean tried to smile at Jen.

She looked up at him. "I told him that severing the bloodline doesn't work. I know I don't have a source for that, but you know me, and I'm sure."

Dean sighed. He could see how this became a problem. "I wasn't exactly convinced of it myself. You know we are going to watch her tonight. We'll make sure."

"I know. I just want Sam to be prepared. I don't want him to lose someone else, again." Jen's words were spoken quietly and calmly, but Dean could feel the tightly held emotion behind them. He understood. He felt the same way as Jen, but he couldn't tell Sam that. Dean couldn't burst his little bubble of optimism. Jen, though, was always truthful, even when it hurt. Dean appreciated that. Sam often didn't.

Dean thumbed toward the door. "You want me to go after him?"

Jen shook her head. "He'll be back soon. You two will do what you are planning to do. Don't worry about me. I always survive." Jen's expression relaxed, and Dean caught a glimpse of her smile just under the surface. He knew she would be alright. He only hoped that she was wrong and Sam would be alright too.

* * *

><p>As always, though, Jen was right.<p>

There was nothing Dean hated more than to see his little brother's heart break, again. As Sam left the room to do the deed, Dean just watched, feeling like his gut was being torn out. His eyes filled with tears and one escaped down his cheek. Jen took Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze. The shot sounded, and Dean flinched at the sound. He squeezed Jen's hand back. He knew that she wanted to help Sam, but the way they had been lately and after yesterday's blow-out, she seemed uncertain. Still, this was not the time to worry about those things, and he was pretty sure that deep down she knew that. He looked over at her,

"Go, be with Sam. He needs you."

Jen looked at Dean, the pain apparent in her eyes as well. She nodded and left his hand as she moved out into the other room.

As Jen left the room, Dean's body rocked with a shudder and he shut his eyes against the tears. He felt horrible, but he couldn't even imagine what it must be like for Sam.

* * *

><p>Madison shut her eyes and waited silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sam aimed at her heart, he had to hit it perfectly the first time. He fired and her body crumpled. Sam dropped the gun and he fell to his knees. Sobs shook his body, his head held forward in his hands.<p>

He felt the heat of Jen's body before he realized that it was her. It enveloped him like a blanket and seemed to soften the sharp pain that sliced through his gut. He allowed himself to fall into the warmth and then he recognized her voice.

"I've got you, Sam."

At that moment, all the anger he had felt toward Jen in the last week melted completely away and he reached his arms around her waist and held on as if she would float off if he let go. He remembered how he had treated her the day before, and how she had turned out to be right. He tried to whisper, "Sorry Jen." He wasn't sure that the words came out.

"It's okay, Sam. I know."

Thank God Jen didn't hold grudges the way he had. For a few minutes, Sam just clung to Jen, unable to stop the tears and the pain. He heard Dean come in and kneel beside Jen.

"We need to take care of this." He said quietly. Sam knew he was right.

Jen spoke into Sam's ear. "I know it hurts, but right now, we're going to put the pain aside. You have things to do."

Sam understood, and when she said that, he felt it happen. He was able to push the pain to a corner, find his breath, and stop the tears. He carefully let go of Jen and sat back for a moment, wiping his face with his hands and taking a deep controlled breath. Then, Sam stood up and looked at Dean. Dean didn't look much better than Sam, but he was trying to hide it. Sam knew better, but now wasn't the time. They needed to deal with a body.

The hunters within Sam and Dean took over and they discreetly moved Madison's body into the Impala, cleaned up what they could, and began to drive away as quickly as they thought was reasonable.

Sam was in the back seat at Jen's insistence. He didn't know why she told him to go back there, but he wasn't in a position to argue. However, just a few minutes outside of town, the fatigue hit Sam hard and soon he was asleep on the seat.

Unfortunately, all he could see in his dreams was the funny, beautiful girl that he had to kill. He felt the car bump over terrain that was clearly no longer the road. Sam knew what would come next. He felt that kick in the gut again and tears sprang back into his eyes, still closed as he lay in the back, curling as tightly as he could manage.

The car stopped. Jen and Dean both quietly left the car, but Sam stayed in place. Then the door by Sam's head opened and Jen slid inside. Sam forced himself to sit up and he immediately grabbed Jen as a sob broke into her shoulder. She returned his hold. Sam didn't know how he was going to make it through this evening.

"Don't worry, Sam. I'm here."

* * *

><p>Dean started in on the preparation right away. He knew that he wasn't far from his own breaking point, especially watching Sam, but he focused on the job. He tried to look at this as any other salt and burn, and not the death of yet another girl who Sam had feelings for. It was not easy.<p>

Once everything was ready, he looked over to Jen, still sitting in the Impala with Sam. She looked back and nodded to him.

Dean had found a nearly perfect set-up with a clearing and a large log on its side just nearby. Jen sat on the log and guided Sam to the ground by her side. Dean could quickly see the logic in that move as Sam didn't hesitate to lean onto Jen's lap. He seemed semi-calm, for the moment.

Dean struck the match and lit the body, staring at the fire for a moment before taking a seat beside Jen on the log. Dean was transfixed by the flames leaping and jumping in front of him, the heat of the fire warming his face and hands. Dean had been trying to stay in motion and keep his mind off everything up until now, but suddenly he had no other choice. As he watched her body burn, he started to think about it all. The people they had lost recently, Madison, Ron, the others they couldn't save. He thought about his Dad, Jess, Mom, and being the only ones left to carry this through.

Before Dean realized what was happening, tears were spilling down his cheeks as well. He didn't even notice until Jen took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He looked over at her, and wiped at his face. Jen dropped his hand and put hers on his back, rubbing gently. Dean didn't even try to resist, and he moved himself closer to Jen, and she wrapped her arm around him tightly.

After a while, the body was dust and flames burned themselves out, though the Winchester brothers still sat as it grew dark around them. Everyone was worn out, but neither brother wanted to be the first to leave Jen's protective touch. Fortunately, she made that decision for them, finally quietly stating, "I think we should head back to the car."

Dean fumbled his way into the front seat and Jen led Sam to the back, taking for herself the passenger seat next to Dean. He looked over at her, not wanting to think how that might have all gone without her.

"You are way too good for us, you know that?" Dean whispered.

Jen smiled. "That's okay. It's what I do." Dean sighed as he shut his eyes. Cryptic as always, but he would take it. The last thing he thought before drifting off was: _we need a vacation in Hollywood._


	17. What Is and What Should Never Be

**Another jump in the timeline, assume Jen stayed out of the studio in Hollywood and in the motel during the encounters with Ed and Harry. Almost time for a big reveal as we near the end of the season! Thanks to all my readers because I don't say it much and I should!**

* * *

><p>"But people are alive because of you. It's worth it, Dean. It is. It's not fair, and, you know, it hurts like hell, but ... it's worth it."<p>

Dean heard Sam's words, but he wasn't sure. Still, he couldn't do this now. He couldn't be the uncertain one. Dean straightened up and looked directly at Sam.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."

Sam seemed satisfied. Dean glanced at Jen across the room. She was watching him. She knew. She always knew. She wasn't going to say anything now, though, that wasn't her way.

The rest of the evening was boring: dinner and some stupid HBO movie, where Sam fell asleep in the middle. Dean turned the lights out and flipped the channels mostly getting infomercials, hoping he would get tired. It didn't work. He still couldn't get the images of the other world he had lived in out of his head. He knew that if he couldn't figure this out soon, Jen was going to pick up on it and then he wouldn't have a choice. Maybe he should just talk to her about it. She was easier to talk to than Sam, and this way it would be on Dean's terms. He looked to her in the chair in the corner. He couldn't tell if her eyes were open. Well, no way to find out except to ask.

"You still awake?"

She responded quickly. "Wide awake, actually." Dean wasn't surprised. Now all they needed was to get away from Sam. Even if he was asleep now, that couldn't be guaranteed.

"You want to take a walk?"

"Of course."

They grabbed their coats, left Sam a note, and headed out the door. Dean wasn't sure how to go about this and the experience was still pretty jumbled up in his head. For a while, he couldn't figure out what to do other than walk. Jen seemed okay with that for a while. It was quiet out, no other people in sight. The street they walked down contained mostly closed shops and restaurants. Dean was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice most of the scenery.

"Why don't we sit for a bit." Jen's voice broke through the swirl of emotions in Dean's head. He looked around and saw they were in front of a long, low wall, perfect for a break. That sounded fine to Dean.

"Okay." Dean sighed and sat down. He still didn't know exactly what he wanted to talk about, but he had a lot of thoughts in his head, so he figured maybe he'd just see where it took him. Probably better to start babbling than to wait for Jen to start asking questions.

"I always knew that we didn't have a normal life, you know, like other kids. And I always had to tell myself that my life was so much cooler. I mean, I got to hunt werewolves and shit, and other kids were playing football and doing homework. But, I also had to keep the front up for Sammy, you know. Try and convince him that our life was better, because he could see the difference. Anyway, I never thought really hard about what life could be like, you know, if we weren't hunting. Plus, I didn't know what that would be like. I couldn't really compare the two."

"You mean, you couldn't actually miss what you never had." In one succinct line, Jen formed the words to describe Dean's thoughts, and when he heard it, it all made sense. He looked at Jen. A tightness was forming in his throat, but he pushed through to get out what more he had to say.

"Yeah, that's it exactly. But now I have seen it, or at least a glimpse of it." Dean paused and turned away from Jen for a moment. The tears were getting closer to the surface, but he had to finish. "I felt what it was like to have a real girlfriend. I saw Sam with Jess, and got to see mom watch us grown up." Dean's chin began to quiver at the mention on his mother. He turned back to Jen. "It's like I'm homesick for a home that isn't really mine." Tears filled Dean's eyes. "Especially mom."

A tear slipped down his cheek. Jen slid closer to Dean and placed her hand on his shoulder, gently nudging him toward her. Dean didn't fight her, leaning sideways onto her shoulder. For a few moments, he just sat, letting tears fall and brushing them out of the way. Jen gently rubbed his shoulder, allowing him to think in silence. Although the immediate pain of what had just been through was fading quickly, deeper feelings that had been growing for a while began to surface.

"I'm getting so tired of this life." Dean whispered, almost defeated. "We just keep losing. We couldn't save Dad, or Madison, or Tiny, or Ronald." He lifted his head and wiped his eyes, but turned his gaze away from Jen. "And I know I'm acting like I tell Sam not to, but sometimes, it is so hard to see the point. I keep getting stuck in the 'hurts like hell' part and the part that's 'worth it' is slipping further and further away."

Jen picked up Deans hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. "Dean, look at me."

Dean always worried when Jen asked that. There was something about her eyes that he couldn't place and he could never be sure what he would find there. He lifted his head toward her reluctantly.

"You know that I know more about things than I let on, especially about you and Sam. One of the things I know is that that you two are important, more important than you want to think, and that you have helped save many, many people, and will save many more. Yes, the world you can see includes what seems like an overwhelming amount of loss, but I know, and I know you believe, even if just a little, that in the big picture, you are making an important, positive difference in the world."

Dean thought about it for a moment. _Important, maybe that wasn't all it was cracked up to be._ "Do all important people have these problems?"

Jen was silent for a moment. Then she began speaking quietly. "There was a man once who influenced millions of people with a message of peace and love, but to allow his message to spread, he knew that he would have to be martyred. Even though deep down he knew that was the only way, he still prayed for any other option, because even those with the strongest faith doubt themselves when things get really tough."

Dean listened to her words. Her story sounded vaguely familiar, although he couldn't quite place it. Jen looked over at Dean and continued.

"That was Jesus, you know. The Christians tend to forget that that at the very end he asked why God had forsaken him. The lesson is not about sin, but about doing what is right even when it seems wrong." She smiled. "He's also arguably the most important person to walk the planet so far, whether divine or not."

Dean knew he recognized those events, although he was surprised to hear that example come from Jen. He knew she didn't seem to believe in God, Heaven, or Angels, so Jesus was a little out there for her. Of course, it was Jen, so the story had her unique twist. He could see the point, well, he tried to see the point. Something still nagged at him, but it was only a whisper in the back of his mind, tossed into a drawer and silenced, for now at least.

Dean looked around him and realized it had grown awfully late. He looked across at Jen, and she nodded before he could even speak and stood up. The two chatted their way back to the motel on any topic other than recent events. Sam was still asleep when Dean crawled into bed. He turned toward Jen who was settling herself in her chair. She looked at him for a long moment before shutting her eyes. Dean wasn't sure what he saw in them, although for just a moment, he thought she seemed sad. He wondered why that might be.

As Dean drifted off, he tried to think of something he could do for Jen. She always did so much for them. He slept soundly that night. He didn't know it would be his last night of sound sleep for quite a while.


	18. All Hell Breaks Loose

**This starts at the end of the first episode and moves through the second.**

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't be dead. It didn't make any sense. His little brother was a fighter. He wasn't just going to up and give in to a measly knife wound. Still, Dean had to admit that the limp body in his arms felt lifeless and heavy. He kept holding on, though, just in case. Tears burned in his eyes and began streaming down his cheeks as he knelt there.<p>

Dean felt a hand on his back as Jen bent down beside him. "He's gone, Dean. I'm so sorry." Jen's voice was nearly a whisper, though Dean heard it perfectly clear.

He shook his head and squeezed his little brother's body tighter. "No. No, he can't be."

Jen's hand moved to Dean's shoulders. "Let Bobby take him, Dean."

Dean looked up to see Bobby in front of him, ready to lift Sam away. Dean shut his eyes trying to block out Jen's gentle command and her slight pull on his body, but he couldn't seem to ignore her so he let go. Sam's body fell sideways into Bobby's arms and he quickly carried him off. Dean sank back onto the ground and found himself wrapped tightly in Jen's arms as sobs shook his body.

"Tell me this is a dream." He whispered.

"I wish I could." Jen's voice was clear and her body still.

For a few moments, Dean let Jen hold him in the dark. He couldn't believe that he had allowed this to happen. He should have been able to stop it. He should have been able to do something. A fire burned in his gut, only this time it was guilt and anger, and Dean knew he couldn't sit here any longer. There had to be something to do. Some way to save Sammy. That was what he promised: to save Sammy.

Dean pushed Jen back, more forcefully than he intended, and stood up. Jen was at his side instantly, appearing unphased.

"We gotta get out of here." Dean proclaimed and began walking toward the car, Jen on his heels. They drove off in silence.

* * *

><p>The abandoned house seemed like a good place to stop. It was sheltered and they knew they couldn't drive much further with Sam's body anyway. Dean carefully lay Sam out on a bench. He looked so peaceful. There had to be another way. There simply had to.<p>

Bobby had left for a bit to get some food or something and check some things out. He kept talking about this being much bigger than he originally realized, although Dean was barely listening. Jen was around. If Dean was keeping a vigil over Sam, Jen might as well have been keeping vigil over Dean. She stayed nearby, often watching him intently. He wasn't breaking, though. He didn't need her because he was going to find a way around this. Dean was going to do something about Sammy.

Bobby came back, trying to get Dean to leave. Dean wouldn't budge. He felt bad for yelling at Bobby. He knew that this hurt Bobby too. Still, Dean couldn't just go on hunting like nothing had happened, and he couldn't bury Sammy.

Jen walked up to him after Bobby left and placed her hand on his arm. "Dean …" she began, but he shook her off. He couldn't handle her right now. He knew how she worked. She would try and make him deal with the grief, but he wasn't going to do that. This was Sammy. There was nothing to deal with. Dean wasn't going to go on without him.

"Let me help, Dean." Jen's voice gently nudged him though she stayed a few inches back still. Dean turned around to face her, brushing the tears off his cheeks.

"I don't want your help. I just want to be alone with my brother."

Dean looked at Jen. He had seen sadness in her eyes before, but this was deeper than he could remember. She nodded at him before turning away. Dean turned back to Sam as footsteps faded. This was his mistake. He would deal with it himself.

* * *

><p>Dean stood in the center of the crossroads, box in hand, hole dug at his feet, ready to do whatever was necessary to bring Sam back. He paused for just a moment.<p>

"Dean, don't do this." Jen's voice rang out behind him strongly.

Dean swirled around in disbelief. She had left, gone off with Bobby. How did she find him?

"What are you doing here? How did you …?" Dean's voice trailed off as he saw Jen. She was no longer dressed in the dark jeans and top she had been wearing earlier, but now was dressed in a long white skirt and peasant top that looked like it belonged to a different century. Stranger than the clothes, though, was that they were almost glowing in the night. It was as if a light was shining from within her producing a soft glow around her entire figure.

Dean stopped in his tracks, nearly dropping the box. He took a breath. "Who are you, and what have you done with Jen." He thought about reaching for his gun, but whatever it was, it didn't appear hostile, yet.

The figure looked at him and he was amazed at how Jen's eyes seemed exactly the same as they always were. Dean was almost transfixed by the sadness that seemed to emanate from those yes.

"It is me, Dean. Nothing has taken over your friend. I'm not a demon, a shapeshifter, or any other evil creature, and I've always been the same person."

Dean still couldn't understand what she was saying. This was too much, too complicated. "What …" Dean stammered, "What are you?"

Jen smiled at him, her eyes still holding Dean's gaze. Dean almost began to relax at her smile, it was the one he was so used to seeing. Still, he remembered the circumstances and made sure to still be on alert.

"I'm an Earth spirit, the energies of the planet transformed into matter. We're the protectors of this world and have been interacting with humans since humans existed. Some of us are known as Gods and Goddesses, but never the ones who cause harm to others. It is my first duty never to harm another living being. I'd been watching you and Sam for many years before we decided that I needed a more permanent role in your lives, and so that's where I've been."

Dean had never heard of anything like this before. He had certainly never heard of supernatural beings that were meant to protect humans, and he was still skeptical. Her eyes still drew him in. He saw in them the sincerity he had come to recognize over this past year and half, and he wanted to trust in her even if every bit of his hunter's instinct told him not to.

Suddenly, she faded from view and a breeze cut across Dean's face as he heard her voice from behind him. "I need you to believe me, Dean."

He spun around and there she was, only now the light surrounding her had taken on blue and purple hues. Well, if she could do that and hadn't tried to hurt him yet, he felt at least somewhat more secure that she wouldn't. Okay, Dean would assume for a moment at least that this was Jen. Now what?

"Okay. Let's say I believe you. What do you want?"

Jen's expression immediately took on the deep seated feeling of sadness Dean had sensed before. "I don't want you to make the deal you are planning to make. You can't go to Hell Dean, now or years from now. It's not a place you want to be."

Dean's chin trembled now, remembering his predicament. "It's the only way. I can get Sammy back for a while, maybe even ten years. This is Hell for me right now. I can't do this without him."

"Deals like this are always trouble. You've said yourself before, Dean, what's dead should stay dead."

"He shouldn't be dead. It's my fault he's dead."

"Oh, Dean, it's not your fault." Jen stepped up to Dean and wrapped her hands around his on the box. Her touch startled Dean for a second, but it felt exactly the same as always. "It's not your fault, and I can be here with you. I can help you get through this."

Tears filled Dean's eyes, but he held steady. "I don't want to get through this. I don't want to live without him."

"If you do this, it means someday he will have to live without you."

"Sammy is stronger than me, he can do it, and he'll have you, right?" The idea of Jen watching over them was beginning to sink in and almost make sense, though Dean didn't have time or energy to really think too hard about it. Jen nodded to his question. Dean spoke very quietly and looked straight into Jen's eyes. "I have to do this."

Jen sighed. "I know when I've lost a fight. I shouldn't be here when it happens."

Jen was gone in a flash and a whisp of wind across Dean's cheek. He wondered if he would ever see her again. He wondered if Sam knew about her. Sam. Dean looked down at the box in his hands and swallowed the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath and pulled out every bit of composure he had. He knew that he would need it to make this deal. He knelt down and buried the box.

* * *

><p>It was back at Bobby's house after everything had happened that Sam realized how long it had been since he heard from Jen. All Dean had said was that she said she had to leave, and she didn't say where to or how long. After everything that happened, though, Sam was really starting to miss his best friend. He was trying to deal with having been dead, opening the gate to Hell, seeing his Dad again, and Dean's impending death, and it wasn't easy.<p>

He called her cell a few times and left a text message, but she didn't answer. He wondered if now that things were calm, Dean would remember something she had said before running off. Sam found Dean in the bedroom.

"Hey, Dean. I still haven't heard from Jen, and I was wondering if, you know, she said anything else to you?"

Dean looked up at his brother. The look of guilt in his eyes was unmistakable and Sam knew that something more must have happened between Jen and Dean that Dean had "forgotten" to mention.

Sam glowered at his brother. "What did you do? I mean, other than what you did. What did you do to Jen."

Dean swallowed hard and looked away from Sam. "You might want to sit down for this one."

Sam's heart leapt into his throat. "Oh, God, tell me she's not …" Sam didn't even want to say what he was thinking. He couldn't take losing both his brother and best friend.

Her voice echoed across the room. "Don't worry, Sam. I'm very much alive."

Sam was startled and turned in a full circle but didn't see anyone. When he spun back to Dean, Jen was standing in the middle of the room.

Sam was in complete shock. "How did you?"

Jen smiled at him. "We have some talking to do. Dean was right, you might want to sit down."

Sam sank back onto the bed staring at Jen in the middle of the room. As he watched, an aura of color appeared around her, first white, then blue, then red. Then the aura faded and Jen began to speak.

"For everything on the planet that has matter, there is energy. Those energies have been around since the beginning of time, and they formed consciousness. In time, the consciousness of that energy learned to grow, change, communicate, and manipulate the world around it. There are many of these consciousnesses associated with every piece of the planet and the planet as a whole. I am one of these, known to some as an Earth spirit or an Earth Goddess."

Sam's jaw was nearly on the ground watching Jen speak calmly to him about this. "Holy shit." He interjected. He noticed that Dean didn't appear as shocked as Sam felt. He looked quizzically at his brother. "Did you know."

"Only … recently." Dean looked away.

Jen spoke again. "You might say he forced my hand. The reason we are having this conversation is because I thought revealing my true nature would help convince Dean not to make the deal for you. Clearly, that didn't work, and I can't have him knowing and not you. I waited to respond to you, Sam, because I wanted you both in the same place so I can explain as much as possible."

Sam was still staring and not really sure what to make of it all. He had so many questions that he didn't know where to begin. Jen looked straight at him.

"Relax, Sam, you can just let me talk for a while."

She spoke as if she could hear his thoughts. Typically, Sam wouldn't even have thought about that, but now, he wondered.

Jen smiled at him. "Yes. I can hear your thoughts. I don't specifically hang around in there listening, but I can hear, that is, if you want me to. All you have to do to block me out is think it. Dean is doing it right now."

Jen turned toward Dean, who had an annoyed look on his face. She continued. "I want you to know that I consider internal thoughts completely private. I wouldn't even tell Sam what you were thinking unless you wanted me to."

Sam nodded, pieces were starting to fall into place. "So that's how come it always seemed like you read my mind, because you could." Jen nodded.

"The other thing that I need you to know," Jen kept talking, "is that I have always been me. I can manipulate energy and matter to produce this solid substance, but I, and others like me, do not steal human bodies the way demons do. That also means that nothing known to you can destroy me, not salt, silver, iron, holy water, or even the Colt. Not that you should ever need to do that. My kind believe strongly in not harming living things and there are consequences for those who do."

"Okay." Dean said. "So, let's say we believe all this. Why us? What's our deal to your … kind."

"The exact reasons why I was assigned to you two are somewhat complicated, and I'm not permitted to tell you everything. I can tell you that it's very much tied to your mother and what happened to her. That was also the first night I met you, Sam."

Sam was surprised to hear that. "You met me then?"

Jen smiled and slowly her figure as they knew it transformed into that of a woman who looked about 45 years old, but still had similar features and especially the same eyes. Dean lit up with recognition.

"The nurse at the hospital, when they were checking us out after the fire!" Jen nodded and returned to the age they knew her as.

If she could do that? Sam's mind began churning. "So, who else have you been?"

Jen transformed again, this time into a child of about 8. This time, Sam knew that face. "You gave me your ice cream when mine fell."

Jen changed again, to about her early thirties. Dean gasped. "The woman in the park."

Sam didn't recognize Dean's description, but it didn't matter because in a moment she was older again, and this time he knew her. "My 10th grade guidance counselor."

Jen returned to the form that the boys knew. Sam started to understand the significance of her ability. "You've literally been watching us all our lives."

Jen nodded again and remained silent, allowing Sam and Dean to process what they had just seen and heard. Dean spoke up again first.

"You said you weren't 'permitted' to tell us stuff, by who? Do you have orders? Where do you get them from? Are we just a job to you?"

Jen's expression softened as she quickly spoke. "You two are far more than any job to me. I was originally chosen for this mission because I tend to get personally close to those I work with, and we knew that would probably be important. I do have orders and rules to follow. The most important is to not interfere. I'm a low man on our totem pole, if I break the rules, they will take me off the case and away from you."

Jen paused and looked directly at Dean as if she heard something, but Sam hadn't heard anything, then spoke again, quietly. "That's why I couldn't save Sam."

She turned back again. "There are a lot of things I am not allowed to tell you, but I will be glad to answer anything I can."

For a moment, Sam and Dean were silent. This was so much new information that Sam could barely keep it all straight much less figure out more questions to ask. He looked at Dean who appeared just as dumbfounded.

Then, Sam thought for a moment. "Why didn't you listen to her, Dean? Right? You asked him not to make the deal and told him all this. Why didn't you listen?"

Dean pressed his lips together and looked away from Sam. Jen responded. "We didn't discuss everything, there wasn't time, just the important parts. You can't blame him; it runs in the family. Your father didn't take my advice either."

Both Sam and Dean looked up at Jen, eyes wide. "Dad knew?" Dean nearly whispered.

Jen nodded. "Only at the end. We had the same conversation I had with you, and he gave me a similar response. I asked him not to tell you."

Memories of Dad and the deal brought a hush over the room. Sam's attention returned to Jen as she began to glow again with a soft pink tone.

"I'm sure you will have many questions, but you should have time to think about them. Just know that even when you can't see me, I'm often near, and even when I'm not near, if you call me I will hear you. Call me if you need me." Jen slowly dissolved away as a breeze drifted across the room.

Sam stared at the empty space where Jen had stood for a moment.

Dean spoke. "When she says to call her, you don't think she means on the phone anymore, do you?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope. I think she just means to shout her name."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

The boys looked up at each other and then at nearly the same time, they both said, "Bobby!" and jumped up. Sam smiled to himself. He knew that he still didn't understand everything he had just heard, but having a Goddess for a best friend, that was just kind of cool.

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't sleep. Everything that had happened recently was simply running over and over through his mind, so he decided that if was going to be awake, he was going to try and do something useful. He had gathered a few key books earlier out of Bobby's bookroom and he started combing through one of them, looking for anything about breaking deals with demons.<p>

It was late, he was tired, and as he read about things that happened in Hell, tears began to fill his eyes until he couldn't read any longer. God, he wished this wasn't happening. He shut his eyes and leaned back in his chair. His thoughts turned to Jen. This is typically about the time she used to walk in on him asking what was wrong. That wasn't exactly the way it was going to happen anymore, though. Still, she had said to call if he needed her. Right now, he definitely needed her.

Sam took a deep breath and whispered. "Jen, If you can hear me. I could really use you right now."

"Of course I can hear you, Sam." Sam opened his eyes just in time to see Jen dissolve into view beside him. He was still in a little bit of shock at the appearance, even knowing how it should work in principle, as she pulled up a chair and sat beside him.

"I really can just call you." Sam said, his voice beginning to tremble.

Jen smiled at him. "You always could."

Sam turned to Jen and wrapped his arms around her, and the weight of everything that had happened finally had a chance to push down on him unabated and tears started sliding down his cheeks. Jen held him tightly, just the same as she always did. This time, though, when Sam felt like her strength was almost bleeding into him, he realized how true that probably was. Her voice echoed inside his head, a place he hadn't expected to hear it.

"Take what you need from me, Sam, and I can hold what you don't want to. I have plenty of strength to give and can carry more sorrow than you can imagine."

Although everything in Sam's life had changed in the last few days, he knew that one thing hadn't: he still had his best friend.

* * *

><p><strong>And that brings Season 2 to a close! Thanks for reading. Drop me a line if you enjoyed it! Watch for Season 3 to be it's own new story entitled "It Was the Year of Pain" in a week! <strong>


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